Death and her Surgeon
by texgal
Summary: A certain ruthless surgeon is about to bite off more than he can chew with his newest unwilling crew member.  A young woman is about to find out exactly what happens when you stir the interest of a dangerous Supernova.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_Ten Years Ago_

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><p>When the child washed up at the docks of the Navy outpost on Saboady, it was assumed that she was the survivor of some shipwreck. Perhaps she had been traveling with her parents and their vessel came under attack by a Sea King; perhaps it had been set upon by pirates. Whatever the case, the marines who found the small body determined she wasseverely malnourished; certainly not a threat. Two marines dove into the water to extract her, and she was carefully laid out on the dock as another marine was sent running for a medic.<p>

One of the rescuers who had hauled the child from the water quietly approached his commander, who stood back from the crowd of curious soldiers observing the scene with hard eyes. He spoke softly to his superior, showing the older man his hands. The officer nodded once before barking orders at the ogling men clustered around the unconscious child. In response the girl was carefully turned upon her side so that her back was made visible.

Instantly the air was filled with cries of outrage and shock. The back of the tunic which the child wore was nearly shredded, as was the flesh underneath. Thick bloody welts took the place of skin; so deep were the marks that some continued to bleed sluggishly, though it was clear that the wounds were several days old.

A medic appeared, pushing his way through the growing crowd of men until he stood beside the bloodied victim. One look at her and he was moving towards the commander, shouting to be heard over all the voices.

"Sir, we need to get her to the Navy hospital!She requires treatment immediately!" Just after he had finished speaking, he turned around; presumably to rush back and pick up the child so that he could take her to the aforementioned hospital.

His mission was waylaid, however, by the splatter of blood that immediately soaked his front from head to toe as the circle of men surrounding the child exploded in a shower of guts and limbs.

Scarlet rain poured down upon the docks, splattering the stunned survivors as the child woozily rose to a sitting position. Those closest shrank back in fear as they registered: her eyes were glowing black.

_Monster! She's a_ _monster! _The thought flashed through the medic's head over and over, even as his eyes took in the carnage around him and the commander yanked him to safety. The order was given to stay at a distance. No one was to approach the girl until they could determine what this meant. Meanwhile, the child - _the monster_ - was sitting where she had been laid, hugging her knees to her chest and trembling violently. Her eyes had changed from the blackest pitch to a blue-green that reminded the commander of the sea upon which he made his livelihood. There was fear in her eyes as she looked around herself, followed quickly by tears when she registered the gruesome mess. She raised her little head slightly, and by chance happened to lock gazes with the commander.

"Did...did I do this? Did I make it rain blood again?"

Shocked by the brutal deaths of so many of his men, even more so that their murderer - a tiny little girl-child - seemed unaware of her actions mere moments after performing them, the commander found himself nodding in the affirmative without conscious thought.

The girl burst into tears.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, I promise! I didn't mean to do it again! Please, I'll fix it, I'm sorry! Please don't tell the shaman, please, I'll fix it! Don't let him hurt me! Look, watch, Mister, I'll fix it I promise - "

The girl proceeded to wave her arms frantically through the air, sobbing for all she was worth with her little face screwed up in concentration. Without warning, the area within one hundred yards of the Navy docks was engulfed in blinding white light. Those inside the perimeter were briefly blinded. When later interrogated about this event, the afflicted marines would swear to a man that they had felt warm, safe, and protected from the moment the light had struck them until the moment it vanished.

After the commander on the dock regained his eyesight after the disappearance of the light, it was to see every single man he had just witnessed explode standing healthy and whole in front of him once again, clustered in a circle around the sobbing little girl who had apparently just brought them all back to life.

The astounded medic promptly fainted on the spot.

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><p>AN: This story will be beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

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><p>When Kyra wakes up somewhere <em>other<em> than the bar in Sabaody that she doesn't remember leaving, she is pissed.

Upon realizing that she's in a goddamn cage and that there is an explosive collar around her neck accompanied by the shackles around her wrists, she becomes absolutely _livid_.

All she had wanted was a drink. Just a little alcohol to enjoy on her own, no questions asked, no unwanted company from random sleazebags. She had _paid_ that fucking bartender for that drink. And he had the gall to _drug her_?

He is _so_ going to die when she gets out of this mess.

Kyra stays sprawled out on the floor for a while, letting her magic burn off the rest of whatever drug the soon-to-be-dead bartender slipped into the rum. It leaves her with a pounding headache even after being expelled from her system; her temples pulse in time with her heartbeat as she very slowly sits up. A guard dressed in ridiculously bright clothing notices this from outside of the cage she's in, but does nothing other than eye her disdainfully. Kyra ignores him for the moment to get a better understanding of the surroundings.

She is in a long, narrow, hall filled with people. Slave auction house. That figures. It is strangely quiet; in the dim lighting, Kyra is unable to tell exactly how many people are being held captive with her, but she knows that there should be more noise than this. She seems to be near the middle of the room, with more prisoners on either side of her from wall to wall in a long cage that stretches the length of the area. Faint sounds from the other side of the bars lead her to believe that the opposite wall is also one large cage.

The chamber reeks of misery.

She is going to _torture_ that fucking bartender.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Kyra glances irritably to her left. An old man sits there, on a box that puts him above her position on the floor as he smiles kindly. He radiates calm, as though he doesn't also wear an explosive collar; as though he isn't also sitting there waiting to be sold like a fucking piece of furniture. The smile on his face annoys Kyra to no end.

"Fuck off, Gramps," she mutters rudely as she staggers to her feet, legs numb from her ungainly sprawl. She wonders how long she's been here, how much time she has to get out of here before they put her on the bidding block. She can think of dozens of ways to get out of her collar and away from this building right now. All she has to do is concentrate on these cuffs and the collar, snap her fingers, and she'll be loose. She can wave her hand and kill every damn person who works in this building right now if she wants to escape the easy way.

But the problem with that is that Kyra doesn't really feel like doing things the easy way right now; she's too far beyond furious. These bastards think they can snag her off the streets; collar her; cuff her; sell her to some sorry excuse for human flesh for an obscene amount of money - and they expect her to simply docilely go along with it? Fuck that plan; she's nobody's possession. She's going to butcher every single one of these scumbags before she leaves to go show that damn bartender why drugging her drink was the stupidest mistake of his life.

Besides, there are other potential slaves in this room with her; other people who have been cuffed and collared and are waiting to be sold as though no better than a dumb animal. No way in _hell_ is Kyra leaving anybody to that kind of fate.

The sound of a door banging against a wall somewhere to her right pulls Kyra out of her thoughts and shatters the unnatural silence. Screaming and crying can be heard moving ever closer to her along with the sounds of footsteps. She steps forward and has to stop; there is a very short length of chain connecting her collar to the wall. She cranes her neck as the noise draws closer, wanting to see what is going on.

"Stop it! It hurts!"

The voice of whoever is crying is high-pitched and feminine. So, some other girl has just been dragged into this hellish room. Kyra relaxes her neck, curiosity momentarily satisfied. Beside her, the old man leans forward on his box, peering around the giant sitting next to him. Kyra assumes he's watching the screaming girl get dragged down the length of the room, and wonders for a moment which cage they're going to -

Whoa, wait a second. Back up.

There is an honest-to-god _giant_ sitting on the old man's other side. A _giant_.

Holy shit.

"Poor child. There's no telling how much a mermaid will draw, or what kind of sick person will buy her."

_Mermaid_? Kyra finds herself moving forward again, straining against the tug on the back of her neck as she tries to get a look at what the old man is seeing. She always wanted to see a mermaid. She has heard tales of their supposed beauty and of the strange magic they are said to wield against men of all species. To Kyra, such stories smack of bullshit - but that doesn't mean she isn't still curious.

"Hey, stop fighting already! We can't tell how big your neck ring is supposed to be!"

What, and they think that would be an incentive _not_ to fight? Are those men _retarded_?

Frustrated with her limited field of vision, Kyra decides she is done being chained to the freaking wall. She is not a dog that needs a leash, damn it. Having come to that decision, the sorceress gathers a small bit of magic into her right hand, intent on getting rid of that stupid annoyance. She hears the old man make a faint noise of surprise, but ignores him in favor of reaching behind her and wrapping her fingers around the footlong length of metal holding her. Two seconds later and there is a line of what appears to be black sand leading from the wall to the backs of her bare feet. Now unfettered, Kyra pauses for a moment to shoot a threatening glare at the ever-grinning fool beside her. He raises his hands to her in a submissive fashion, and Kyra stalks silently to the bars of the cage, satisfied that the geezer will not raise an alarm. Glad of the chamber's poor lighting, she leans causally against the pieces of metal keeping her from freedom and peers over to her right - where all the commotion seems to be coming from.

The first thing she registers is the pink fish tail desperately trying to free itself from the clutches of one of the hideously dressed guards. Following the length of the appendage, she sees that it is indeed attached to the waist of a young girl with green hair. The mermaid is putting up a hell of a struggle - were she a human in the possession of legs Kyra is fairly certain she'd be free by now. As it is, all the mermaid can do was wiggle and twist furiously as a man with pinkish hair in an ugly blue outfit - which she _swears_ looks like a dress - walks right past where Kyra stands to leer at this newest prize.

"Hey, hey, don't be so hard on the merchandise!" he admonishes the guards, who promptly drop the mermaid to the ground. Her hands are restrained as the pink-haired man crouches beside her, his back to Kyra so that she is unable to see his expression. She does, however, see the way the man reaches out and grabs the mermaid's chin as if it were his right to touch her, turning the girl's head first one way and then another before laughing and releasing her. The mermaid glares at him before sticking out her tongue in a childish manner; the pansy's shoulders tense half a second before he slaps her in the face.

Instantly two guards rush forwards to restrain the dress-wearer, shouting things about not marking the slaves where the bruise would be visible. The mermaid hangs in the grip of the guard restraining her hands, tears pouring down her cheeks as one of them begins to swell from the slap she has just received.

Kyra has seen enough. She _has_ always wanted to see a mermaid, but she has no desire to watch one suffer like this. She turns away from the bars and moves back to sit next to the old fool with the constant grin, who at the moment looks rather serious. Kyra makes herself comfortable on the floor, crossing her legs, putting her shackled hands in her lap, and resting her head against the wall. She eyes the greybeard questioningly.

"You be upset if you don't get sold today, Gramps?"

The old man smiles at her yet again. "Slavery wasn't really one of those things I wanted to do in my old age."

Kyra snorts, closing her eyes to wait for the auction to begin. She's going to make sure it is a very, _very_ short show.

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><p>Trafalgar Law slouches gracefully in his poorly-cushioned seat within the stuffy auction house, watching with bored disinterest as a scantily clad dancer girl is sold to a man who looks to be at least thrice her age. Pathetic. This whole auction has been a colossal waste of his time. Why would he spend his beri on some dancer girl when he can walk into any bar in the seas and have women throw themselves on him? By far the most interesting thing that has happened since Law sat down was watching that pirate bite his tongue off. That showed at least a measure of dignity; a quality he knew exactly how to squeeze out of people when necessary, and so held appreciation for it.<p>

This entire island seems designed to grate on Law's nerves. The brightness, the noise, the people; the slender pirate longs for the quiet order of his sub. He belongs a hundred fathoms beneath the sea, surrounded by quiet and gloom with only his crew for company. He does not like being trapped on this archipelago for a week. Even running into his fellow Supernovae hasn't gone the way he had hoped it would: the ex-Marine Drake had barely glanced at him earlier; Eustass Kidd at the back of the room had not risen to the taunt of Law's one finger salute nor had the first mate Killer jumped to his defense; and in spite of the fact that most of the well-known Straw Hat crew is standing not far behind Law's seat, neither Straw Hat himself nor Pirate Hunter Zoro is currently in attendance.

In short, Law has yet to manage to pick a fight with any Supernovae, and the failure is trying his patience.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, on to our next item!" The obnoxiously loud voice of the auctioneer easily catches Law's wandering attention, drawing it back to the stage before the next slave is led out. His eyes narrow slightly when he sees no one. The auctioneer's vapid smile becomes a frown as his call is not answered by the results he wants; he turns to face the wings of the stage.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, _our next item_!"

The sounds of a scuffle can be heard from backstage. Law straightens slightly, interest peaked. Is something entertaining finally about to happen?

Two of the guards in the foolish auction house uniforms come into sight on the stage, a struggling figure in between them. A shouted oath blasts through the stagnant air of the building, no doubt blistering delicate ears with both it's volume and it's content.

"Screw you, stupid fucking bastards! Like hell I'm going to calmly waltz to the slave block! Get your slimy hands off me and I might consider letting you live in a few minutes!"

One of the guards, the one with his back to Law, abruptly goes tumbling off of the edge of the stage, his prisoner having somehow managed to kick him in a somewhat tender region. With him out of the way, Law has a clear view of the pissed-off figure about to be sold. A young woman stands glaring out at the audience, her wild black curls framing an angry face and falling in ringlets to her elbows. She wears the collar and cuffs common for all slaves, along with a black tank top and a pair of trousers that flair at the knees, baggy enough to cover her feet while hugging her hips and thighs.

Before he can complete his perusal the lady is then tackled by the remaining guard, as the one she kicked struggles to his feet and back up onstage. More guards come running from the wings, and the auctioneer shouts at an unseen someone to close the curtains for the second time in the duration of the auction.

Law's eyes stay on the struggling form of the woman until the curtains block his view, a small smile playing with the corners of his lips.

Oh, yes, things have indeed become entertaining at last.

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><p>Kyra silently eyes the crowd before her, unable to rid herself of the bile creeping up her throat. The smell of human sweat is overpowering; the leering faces sicken her. She tries to roll her neck, desperate to alleviate some of the tension straining her muscles; her attempt is severely hampered by the collar locked securely around her throat.<p>

She wants to scream.

She wants to kill them all.

"And here we have item number 15!" the auctioneer in the man-dress shouts into the microphone; Kyra can't quite suppress the wince caused by his insanely loud voice bellowing so near her sensitive ears. Seriously, he's holding a damn _microphone_; does he have to shout?

The man edges closer to her; Kyra growls low in warning. She saw how he treated that mermaid, grabbing her face so rudely and then slapping the kid for a little defiance. If he tries that on her she is going to bite the shit out of him.

Her guards - the same two that fetched her from that charming cage backstage, now sporting various bums and bruises from their little argument moments ago - smack her sides with their clubs simultaneously, obviously telling her to stop with the growling. She ignores them.

"As you can see, we have here a pretty young human woman; lean, tall, beautiful skin. Her hair is as soft as silk, ladies and gentlemen! She's toned as well, captured on the seas with the physique to show it- "

"How the hell would an earthworm like you know what 'physique' working a ship builds? And a bar downtown hardly qualifies as 'the seas' anyway. Do you lie this much at every one of these stupid auctions, asshole?"

The auctioneer stutters, his mouth falling open as silence reigns supreme in the smelly auction house. Then gales of laughter wash over them both. Every eye in the front of the building is now fixed on Kyra, who is currently giving the loudmouth auctioneer a look that clearly questions his sanity. Flustered, the wimpy-looking man turns back to the audience, plastering a smile on his face as he attempts to salvage his salesmanship.

"A strong personality on this girl, as well; she will provide quite the entertainment during training for whatever you may wish her to do. Shall we start the bidding at 50,000 beri? 50,000 beri, do I have any takers?"

A plump, balding old man raises his paddle, his beady little eyes leering at Kyra from under rolls of fat.

"Number 81 with 50,000; any other bids?"

"Don't forget to mention my abilities, dumbass," Kyra speaks up blithely, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Or didn't you know that I can liquefy people's organs with a wave of my hand?"

Murmurs instantly begin sweeping the crowd; the words 'Devil fruit' are now on half a hundred lips. The fat man is hesitantly lowering his paddle and no one else is raising theirs. This being Sabaody, where pirates are known to gather, many residents have born witness to the mysterious abilities prized by such riffraff. Even if it is a bluff, no one is willing to risk forking over the money to find out.

_Hah. Not so keen to buy a slave that can kill you without touching you, are you people?_

Just as Kyra grins smugly in triumph a cool, deep and highly amused voice from somewhere near the back calls out "100,000."

Shit. Her eyes sweep the crowd, trying to identify the bidder so she can maim him. So many people buying each other - it makes her sick to see just how low human beings will sink. Besides, with all these dirtbags to pick from it's nearly impossible to figure out which one is her target.

Fine then. She'll just have to make a demonstrative point.

In an instant the explosive collar and handcuffs that had shackled her are dust at her feet, and one of her hands is poking clean through the left guard's chest and out his back. The other man lies dead on the stage, his neck twisted at an impossible angle. Kyra yanks her hand out of the first guard's chest cavity and wipes as much of his blood off her hand and onto his clothing as possible before letting his body drop to the floor.

That done, she snaps her still-slightly-bloody fingers, and every single guard in the auction house immediately explodes.

Blood and guts and random body parts rain upon the shocked and terrified crowd. The loudmouth auctioneer stares at her with his jaw halfway to the stage, not seeming to notice that he has dropped his microphone. Screams ring through the air, although for a minute Kyra could swear she hears someone laughing. Whatever; maybe the sight of such carnage has driven some rich bastard insane.

Path cleared, Kyra jumps down from the stage and begins walking calmly up the stairs towards the exit.

"I'm not real sure which one of you idiots just bid on me," she calls out nonchalantly as she suanters up the lane, "but if anybody tries to stop me from leaving, your guts are going to be decorating the floor. Oh, and I just freed all the other suckers backstage, so don't bother waiting around to pick up your purchases."

This is true; at the same time that Kyra's collar and handcuffs disintegrated, so too did those on of every other potential slave in the auction house, along with the bars of both cages and the locks on the backstage exit. Right about now, that old geezer should be helping everybody else get safely out of the building.

_"Just help the rest of them make it out when you're free, Gramps," she told him as the guards came for her. "I'll do everything else."_

Well, now she has, and now she's going to go kill that damn bartender in the most painful way possible for handing her over to a bunch of slavers.

Before anyone can respond to her threat, there is a terrific crash from the doors leading outside. This is followed by screaming and then another crash, kicking up an amazing amount of dust that billows over the large room in a great cloud even as chunks of wood and stunned people fly through the air in every direction. Coughing, unable to see, Kyra trips on the steps and would go sprawling if not for the hand that shoots out and grabs her elbow. A firm grip steadies her before withdrawing back into the dust to her right; Kyra registers that the fingers of the helping hand are tattooed at the knuckles but is unable to make out the marks. Shrugging it off as some random person's body art, Kyra mutters her thanks as she looks up towards the epicenter of the dust cloud that is beginning to clear, revealing shapes to her curious eyes.

A boy stands panting at the top of the stairs, glaring furiously at what looks suspiciously like one of the Flying Fish Riders Kyra has seen a few times around Saboady. The fish is out cold with a sizable lump on its head, lying in the wreckage of what might once have been the auction house doors.

"What the heck! Couldn't you land any better than that!" Clutching a battered straw hat to his head, the boy yells at the fish's pilot as a dizzy looking man with lime-green hair staggars towards him.

"And you're the one that told me to get on, idiot!" the fellow growls while adjusting three swords strapped to his waist.

_That's Straw Hat Luffy_, Kyra realizes, studying the boy with interest as the rest of the infamous Straw Hat crew moves to stand with their captain. _Bounty of three hundred million beri, second highest of the Supernova super-rookies. Burnt the World Government Flag on Enies Lobby and survived the ensuing Buster Call. Lime-head would be Roronoa Zoro, bounty of one hundred and twenty million beri, Straw Hat's first mate and right hand man. Couple of regular powerhouses, those two._

Right then that daring pirate captain abruptly turns and comes tearing down the stairs towards her, a rather manic glint in his eyes.

_"CAMIE!" _he screams out, his voice reaching a decibel level that she is quite sure would break glass. _"CAMIE, WHERE ARE YOU? CAAAAAMIEEEEEE!"_

There is a strong possibility that Kyra's ears are bleeding. However, she has no time to wonder about this, as Straw Hat's world-renowned clumsiness chooses this moment to assert itself. The kid promptly trips over his own feet several steps above her. It is only because Fate decreed long ago that she would be its bitch that the young woman finds herself rolling down the steps she has just climbed, tangled up with a boy who seems one part rubber and the rest knees and elbows.

They roll in a two-person ball to a stop against the stage, Straw Hat's foot firmly planted in Kyra's face for a much-too-long moment before he jumps to his feet as though nothing has happened.

"Sorry, lady! I didn't see you there! Maybe you should'a moved!"

Seriously?

Kyra looks up at Straw Hat's face, sees the big stupid grin he's wearing, and groans.

Stupid fucking bartender is _so_ going to die.

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><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

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><p>Ten minutes after taking part in a giant game of human pinball along with Straw Hat Luffy, Kyra finds herself surrounded by the auction house's private soldiers - whom she had been unaware of until now - alongside the Straw Hat Pirates, the last three of which have just arrived via Flying Fish Riders and new holes in the roof of the building. For some outlandish reason, this famous crew of misfits have apparently decided that she is in need of their protection, which is why they are now spread out around her in a semi-circle. Her back is protected by the stage against which she leans, her front and sides by pirates of the strangest class who look more than ready to wipe the floor with the armored soldiers.<p>

However, Kyra most certainly does _not_ need their protection, and she has no intention of racking up an obligation to anyone. Experience has taught her that favors can cage a person just as easily and effectively as iron bars. Likewise, just because the klutzy young captain standing directly in front of her sent them both for a tumble does not mean he owes her squat. An accident is an accident, after all.

"Yo, Straw Hat, what are you doing?" she asks gruffly, pushing herself to her feet and advancing on the rubber man. Said individual twists his neck to an impossible degree in order to smile widely at her.

"I knocked you down! So now I gotta help you to say sorry! If I don't Sanji won't let me have enough meat at dinner!"

Kyra neither knows nor cares at the moment which one of these people is Sanji. She does not require an apology or help from anyone. So it is that the sorceress grabs a handful of Straw Hat's vest, pulling him back at the same time as she makes a wide sweeping motion with her free hand. Instantly all of the soldiers charging towards her faint, toppling over as their bodies are involuntarily forced to shut down. Another wave of the hand sends the men hurtling through the air, flying backwards until their carcasses smash through the walls on the opposite side of the room. Their reversed movement will continue for up to ten seconds before ceasing, depositing the now-unconscious soldiers in the dirt outside.

Problem solved, debt avoided, Kyra turns to address Straw Hat once again.

"You were looking for someone?" she asks nonchalantly, ignoring the look of stunned amazement on the youthful face or the way the pirate's jaw is literally dragging the floor. "If it was one of the other slaves they should all be out the back by now. You'll have to check for yourself."

"AWESOME!" the pliable captain screams, obviously not having heard a word of what was just said to him. "How did you _do_ that? That was _soooo cool! _Hey, lady, show me how you did that! I wanna see it again!"

Kyra wonders if there is a brain in that head, or if the organ has also been transformed into nothing more than a blob of rubber. Before she can ask, a girl with orange hair marches over and grabs Straw Hat by the ear, pinching the appendage and pulling so that it stretches towards her. This is apparently painful even for a rubber man, as the notorious pirate immediately lets loose a wail of pain.

"OOOOOWWWW! NAMI, IT HURTS, IT HURTS, MY EAR!"

"Idiot!" the girl shouts at her captain, twisting his ear even further. "We don't have time to ogle at this woman! We need to grab Camie and get out of here!"

The change of expression is so sudden it's almost startling: one moment Straw Hat's face is screwed up in agony, the next it is scarily serious.

"Right, Camie! Okay, let's go and -"

Kyra steps in front of the orange-haired girl just in time to take the bullet whizzing towards her.

The report of a gun being fired rings in Kyra's ears just milliseconds before she moves, her instincts taking her right in front of Straw Hat's crew member. True, she had actually wanted her instincts to move her _away_ from the oncoming bullet, and not a minute before she had convinced herself that being indebted was a hassle for all concerned, but whatever. It only hit the shoulder, and her magic will heal her much faster than nature would have healed the girl, anyway. Already the bullet has been ejected from her flesh, which will soon start to mend itself until she has yet another scar to add to her ever-growing collection.

But that doesn't mean she's not still very unhappy at getting shot. Even with magic, bullets fucking _hurt_. Turning around with what she is sure is an absolutely murderous look on her face, Kyra easily identifies the person she is about to put into a world of pain.

Even if he is a Tenryubito.

"Hoow dare yoo stoopid humans interrwupt my fun!"

The man standing near the top of the stairs is perhaps one of the most pathetic examples of male specimens Kyra has ever had the misfortune of meeting. Overweight, unattractive, and sporting a truly idiotic hairdo; couple those strikes with a Tenryubito's greed and god-like status, and this man is simply a walking, talking cesspool of corruption. No doubt he is under the delusion that his so-called 'holy blood' as one of the descendants of the founders of the World Government will protect him from any retaliation over the fact that he just shot her.

Kyra is not above spoiling the expectations of scum like this man.

One snap of her fingers turns the gun the World Noble is brandishing around into a pile of dust at his feet. A beckoning gesture brings him floating through the air until he comes to a halt in front of her, a look of shocked incredulity upon his repugnant mug.

"Any particular reason you can offer to convince me it would be a bad idea to kick your ass into next year, pudgy?" Kyra drawls out, already cracking her black-magic-encased knuckles in preparation for the deliverance of his punishment.

"How dare yoo, human! Yoo are bewow me, a Tenwyubitoo!"

The lady magician grins wickedly. "Wrong answer."

Her victim is unable to comment further, as her magically enhanced punch not only shatters his nose but also breaks the bones in his cheek and knocks several of his teeth down his throat. Two seconds and a hand wave later, the bleeding bag of slops is sent crashing into the wall to Kyra's left; he crumbles to the floor beneath where he hits, out stone cold.

There is a long, shivering moment of silence before the auction house explodes into pandemonium.

"OH GODS! SHE STRUCK A TENRYUBITO!"

"SHE STRUCK A WORLD NOBLE!"

"NOW AN ADMIRAL AND A WARSHIP ARE GOING TO COME AND KILL US ALL!"

"RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

The stairway is suddenly stuffed with people attempting to escape; screams and the sound of pounding feet fill the air as nearly everyone in the auction house flees the scene. The Straw Hat pirates are regarding her warily; the captain's mouth is once again dragging the floor in his amazement. They seem to have momentarily forgotten about their friend who may or may not still be backstage, but Kyra doesn't bother to remind them at the moment. She freed this Camie person; it isn't her responsibility to help her pirate pals to go find her.

Soon there are only a few people remaining in the auction house; even the cross-dressing pansy of an auctioneer has disappeared. The leftovers are a mixed bunch indeed, not even counting the Straw Hat crew. A fishman in a poor disguise and what appears to be a starfish huddle near the exhibitionist in the speedo, looking terrified; a group of what she can only label as freaks stands casually against one of the walls near the entrance; another group wearing strange suits clusters around a man in a black-and-yellow hoodie sweater with a fuzzy white hat shading his eyes; and two more Tenryubito sit in a private box, glaring at Kyra with an immense amount of hate.

Crap, there's more than one of them. Kyra quickly makes a shooing gesture in their direction, knocking them out painlessly. She has no wish to beat on more of those scumbags, having already gotten payback on the one who shot her; at the same time, she isn't going to leave them awake and give them a golden opportunity to attack her, either. She has enough of a headache as it is, and finds herself longing for a cold drink. A mug of grog - preferably _not drugged_ - would taste very good right about now.

She'll have to remember to raid the liquor cabinets when she visits her next victim, the bartender she intends to kill for getting her into this mess in the first place. He'll be dead, he won't miss it.

The magical furnace wrapped in a slender woman's body is thrown off balance by an object that rams into her from the side. Before her instinct to attack has fully taken over, Kyra finds herself wrapped in a bone-breaking hug.

"SOOOO COOOOOL! LADY, YOU HAVE **_GOT_** TO JOIN MY CREW! YOU'RE JUST WHAT WE NEED, AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS!"

It would appear that when Straw Hat Luffy is excited about something, the only way for him to express that excitement is by screaming hysterically in your ear. Head ringing, injured shoulder shrieking its displeasure at the pressure being exerted on it, Kyra pulls her magic to her skin and forces it outwards. Very soon the ecstatic pirate is lightly tossed into one of his crewmates - the extremely hairy one with antlers - as a transparent shield of hazy energy expands around the irritated mage.

"How about you keep your hands to yourself, Straw Hat." It is not a suggestion. "Are you going to go look for your friend or just harass me?"

Straw Hat bounces back to his feet. "Oh, right! We have to get Camie, I keep forgetting! We have to hurry because now the marines and an Admiral are gonna show up! Which way did you say to go again?"

How in the world has this boy not gotten himself killed yet?

"Lady! You gotta show me where Camie is! _Please_?"

Satisfied that the young imbecile isn't going to try to grab her again, Kyra dissipates her shield and brushes past him, hopping up onto the stage and heading for the wings. Footsteps right behind her are enough to tell that he has followed. Pushing open the door that will lead them back into that miserable little hallway, Kyra's eyes are immediately drawn to the figure on the opposite end of the otherwise empty chamber. The geezer stands next to the open exit, the mermaid who had been slapped earlier held securely yet gently in his arms.

"CAMIE!"

If Kyra never hears that name shouted again after this day, she may yet die happy.

Turning around as Straw Hat tears across the room to his friend, Kyra decides that now would be a great time to leave. As a certain loudmouth pointed out, an Admiral and who knows how many marines will shortly be arriving to avenge her attack on the Tenryubito. She has yet to meet one of the Admirals face to face and would prefer to keep it that way for some time to come.

She gets about halfway back up the stairs in the front of the auction house, having passed the Straw Hats and the two fish creatures with them without a word, before she is once again impeded in her attempted escape.

"Where do you think you're going, Miss?"

Kyra pauses at this question, voiced from her right by the man wearing the black-and-yellow hoodie. His eyes are still shaded by his furry spotted hat, but the smirk on his face is out in the open for all to see. He is lounging quite comfortably in his seat, his heavily tattooed arms spread against the back of the bench and his legs crossed at the knee. He is vaguely familiar; Kyra thinks that she may have seen his face somewhere before, or maybe the hat. The men clustered around him are dressed in identical white jumpsuits - all except for the one sitting behind him with his back turned to Kyra and his shoulders hunched as though he were hiding. He wears a jumpsuit as well, only his is orange in color. He appears to be sporting a fuzzy white hat of his own, this one spotless with little ears attached to the sides.

Weird.

However, the strange dress and stranger headwear of this man and his little posse is not the reason Kyra finds herself stopping. It has everything to do with the fact that the man with the hoodie has the exact same voice as the piece of trash that bid one hundred thousand beri on her earlier - right before she slaughtered the guards. So when he lifts his head and turns to look at her, Kyra is not happy at all to finally peg a name to the face that carries those cold grey eyes with shadows underneath them. Just her luck, really, to be bid on by Trafalgar Law: captain of the Heart Pirates, Surgeon of Death, and the Supernova with a bounty of two hundred million beri.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

* * *

><p>This day just keeps getting better and better.<p>

Trafalgar Law smirks over at the young woman who - in the space of the last half hour or less - has killed or injured at least three dozen people, not to mention absolutely destroying the face of a Tenryubito. She is glaring at him with murder in her eyes, which he has noted are a lovely shade of blue. He would guess that she has figured out from his voice that it was Law who bid on her earlier, hence the furious stare.

"It's none of your business where I'm going, asshole," the female killing machine snaps at him, answering his lazily posed question with venom. Oh, yes, she definitely recognizes his voice.

"I beg to differ, Miss," he counters smoothly, uncrossing his legs to rise from his seat. The surgeon picks up his nodachi and lets it lean against his shoulder, glancing at the woman as he moves about. Law is well aware of the way he looks and the appeal he has to women; perhaps what he wishes to achieve will be made simpler if he can catch this one's interest. Sauntering over to her, he comes to a stop about an inch closer than what would be considered proper, grinning at the slightly shorter female trying to kill him with her eyes.

"I _am_ the one who bid on you earlier, after all."

"Big fucking deal. In case you didn't notice, the auction is over. You never paid for me, and even if you had that's not my problem. I'm not a fucking possession. You want a woman so bad, go to a whorehouse; there's lots of those in the lawless district."

And with that being said she promptly turns and stalks away from him.

Law feels much like a child whose birthday has somehow come early. In the last thirty minutes, he has dozens of people get butchered; seen the infamously crazy Straw Hat Luffy and his powerful crew; and watched this girl use strange abilities he has never seen nor heard of before. He hasn't had this much entertainment in ages. This woman is going to be great fun once he talks her into joining his merry band. Besides, Law can already taste the mayhem he can cause with powers such as hers at his disposal. He'd have to be a fool to let her just walk away, and Trafalgar Law is no fool.

"I wouldn't go out there if I were you, Miss," the devious doctor calls after his soon-to-be crew member. "The Marines have had this place surrounded since before the auction even started. I have no idea who they were hoping to capture...after all, they couldn't have known someone was going to beat up a Tenryubito, could they?"

The girl stops next to where Eustass Kidd and his crew are standing; the Heart Pirate captain can hear her muttering curses under her breath. He finds himself smirking in amusement and does nothing to mask his expression as she turns on her heel and shoots him a look that plainly invites him to go to hell.

"Well it's not like any of you would've had the balls to punch the bastard. Why don't you let him shoot you next time, _Trafalgar Law;_ maybe the rest of us will be lucky and he'll blow you pissant brains out."

Law's smirk grows until it practically stretches from ear to ear; oh, yes, this one is going to be a _lot_ of fun. Before he can say anything else, however, their verbal sparring match is interrupted by a deep voice from the direction of the stage.

"You were shot, Sleeping Beauty? Are you alright?"

'Sleeping Beauty' sends a glare that somehow spits both fire and ice at the speaker. "Stop calling me that, you old geezer. And I'm fine."

The Surgeon of Death turns to look back at the stage, curious to see who it is that warrants such a look. What he sees is sufficient to have him gripping his sheathed nodachi hard enough that his tattooed knuckles go white: standing there next to Straw Hat Luffy, who is in turn surrounded by his crewmates and carrying the new addition of a mermaid, is none other than the legendary Silvers Rayleigh. 'Dark King' Rayleigh, to be precise. Gol D. Roger's second mate, and one of the most wanted men in the world. What the hell is someone like _him_ doing here of all places?

The notorious old pirate grins impishly across the distance between him and the girl. "But you were so pretty when you were asleep!"

"Whatever."

Her rudeness only elicits a smiling shake of the Dark King's head. "Young people these days can't even take an innocent compliment!"

"And fossils like you never know when to shut up," the girl retorts.

Rayleigh bursts out laughing, much to her visible annoyance. Law wonders if she even knows who she's snipping at; does she realize that the old man she saved from potential slavery was once a member of the crew of the last Pirate King? Is she ignorant of his identity, or does she know and just not care?

The Dark Doctor watches with interest as Eustass Kidd pushes away from the wall against which he has been leaning, stalking towards Law's potential crewmate like a predator approaching its next meal. "Better watch your tongue, bitch. That's Silvers Rayleigh you're talking to. A mouthy cunt like you should recognize there are certain people you don't mess with."

The young magic user looks utterly confused, answering Law's question as to whether or not she knew his identity already. "What, are you a friend of his or something? What the hell do I care what his name is? Besides, he'd have to be braindead to fuck with me after all this."

Turning back to Rayleigh, the woman calls out, "Hey, gramps, are you planning on killing me if I don't start kissing your ass? Because I have to warn you, if you try anything I'll rip your head off without touching you.

Again the living legend lets out a hearty laugh. "Not at all, young lady. It pleases me to see someone so young with as much fire as you have."

She promptly turns by to Kidd. "See? He likes me. So feel free to pull your tongue out of his butt and kiss mine."

This time it is Law who laughs, partly at the girl's wit and partly at the look of homicidal fury on Eustass' face. The top Suernova opens his mouth to retaliate, but it is not his voice that blares through the auction house.

"CRIMINALS INSIDE! PLEASE RELEASE THE ROSWARD FAMILY! AN ADMIRAL WILL BE HERE SHORTLY! I'D IMAGINE THAT IT WOULD BE SAFER FOR YOU TO JUST SURRENDER! YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN OTHERWISE, ROOKIES!"

Law simply has to laugh again. Really, this is just too rich. Obviously the marines are under the impression that one of the Supernovae inside the slave house are responsible for the Tenryubito's current condition. The surgeon would just love to know what their reactions would be at finding out that it was actually a slip of a girl, a nobody with extraordinary powers.

"It looks like they've decided to give us the credit for your handiwork, Miss," he calls out to her, immensely pleased with the way his day is turning out. To his surprise, rather than getting angry as Law expected, the girl who butchered or knocked out several dozen people without a hint of remorse actually looks upset. Her hands are soon stuffed into the pockets of her trousers, her gaze relocated to the floor as a scowl covers her face.

"...Sorry. Um...just give me a few minutes. I'll tell them this was all my fault and then get rid of them. I'll make sure they don't lay this on any of your heads, okay? Just...give me time."

And with that, the girl turns on her heel and slouches off towards the entrance, leaving stunned silence in her wake.

Naturally, it is Straw Hat Luffy who takes that silence and smashes it into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Hey, wait up lady! I'm not letting you have all the fun! I'M COMING TOO!"

Law watches as the rubber boy barrels past him after the girl. He watches as Eustass Kidd stalks after the pair of them, muttering about how he's 'not going to let some fucking magic bitch rescue Captain Kidd, damn it.' He watches, and smirks, and decides to tag along with them all. His day is turning out to be extraordinarily entertaining, after all, and he wouldn't want to miss any fun. Nor would he wish to give his next crew member a chance to run off when she doesn't think Law is looking. That girl is going to join the Heart Pirates, whether of her own free will or with some subtle... encouragement.

He really can't say which would give him more joy.

* * *

><p>Kyra waltzes a short distance from the trio of Supernovae where they stand practically side-by-side, ignoring whatever bull Kidd spouts at her back and the fact that Law is staring at her with an unhealthy amount of interest in his gaze. She wants to leave, and like hell she is waiting around for a fucking Admiral to show up.<p>

Across the field, the order is given to charge, and about a hundred Marines come tearing towards her.

"I'll ask that none of you get in front of me," the mage throws over her shoulder, making a point to lock eyes with Law for a moment. "But it's just a request. If you want to die that's your business."

And with that she turns back around to face the oncoming tide of marines. Raising one arm, the sorceress makes a wide sweeping movement, encompassing the whole of the field before her. The results are immediate. Every man in the approaching horde freezes, some teetering dangerously on one leg, a few falling over from lack of balance. Not a single one of them can move so much as a muscle; neither can the ones who hung back by the cannons, which are now large piles of iron-colored sand.

Grinning now, feeling the astonishment from the three men behind her as well as the panicked terror from those in front, Kyra drops her right arm and uses the fingers on her left to make a 'come here' motion.

And that is when the screaming starts.

Kyra has always wondered - in a detached sort of way - just what it feels like when she uses her magic to rip a person's organs out. How badly does it really hurt when your guts are yanked from your body, slowly and painfully? How helpless does that make her victims feel? Judging by the looks on the faces of the screaming crowd of Marines, it hurts like a bitch and makes them feel about as helpless as fish out of water.

Well, good. Fucking bastards want to make her a slave? Screw that. Aside from which, Kyra loathes marines; her hatred for them burns _very_ hot. If she could work it into her schedule to kill a hundred every day, she would do it in a heartbeat.

In a matter of moments over a hundred hearts are lying on the ground at Kyra's feet; some of them are still beating feebly. The smell of blood lies heavy on the air.

Without turning around, Kyra speaks again.

"I can use that on anyone, even Devil Fruit users. Don't fuck with me, Law. I'm not your fucking slave."

"Whoa! That was so gross!" Straw Hat Luffy comes bounding up beside her, that big stupid grin stretching his moneky face. "How'd you do that? That was awesome!"

"Glad you're entertained," Kyra breaths, and that is when she hits the dirt. Her knees simply give out on her, leaving her to sit down rather hard in the springy grass. Her head is swimming, the gunshot wound from earlier is throbbing horribly; she feels like throwing up. Maybe using all of this magic in such a short period of time, especially since she hasn't eaten today, isn't as great an idea as she thought.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay lady?" Straw Hat is in front of her now, the grin gone and actual concern plastered over his features. Kyra can't even remember the last time someone expressed real concern for her, and now she's getting it from a total stranger. This day couldn't get any weirder.

"Hey, do you want me to go get my crew's doctor? Chopper's awesome! He can fix anything!"

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Straw Hat," Law's voice cuts in, sounding a lot closer than it should; Kyra glances over her shoulder and flinches violently to see the surgeon kneeling right behind her, his nodachi resting over one shoulder and that annoying little smile on his lips. He grins more broadly at her reaction and Kyra scowls at him.

"I'm a doctor myself," the cold-eyed youth declares without a hint of modesty. "I'll take care of my own crew."

"I'm not part of your crew," Kyra snaps at him, struggling back to her feet and backing away from him. "I don't need medical attention. I can take care of myself just fine, Trafalgar."

"That's why you're about to fall over again?" the lipstick-sporting Kidd sniggers; Kyra glares at him. "Yeah, caught by slavers and sold to this bastard; I'm sure you do a great job of taking care of yourself, bitch."

"How about you mind your own fucking business, _madame_?" Kyra sneers, eyes darting from him to Law and back; she can see Straw Hat standing off to one side, scratching his head in confusion. "Buzz off, all of you."

Something cold and ugly passes over Law's eyes at those words, and he taps his nodachi against his shoulder sharply. "Don't order me around, Miss. I don't take orders well."

Kyra groans, running her hands over her face in annoyance. "Okay, my bad: _please_ buzz off. There, I made a request for you; happy now?"

She doesn't wait for him to answer. She doesn't give a shit about his mood; she needs to get out of here before the Admiral shows up. Kyra spins on her heel and runs.

"Bepo."

"AIIIIEEEE!"

Instinctively, Kyra dives forward, rolling to the side. Something large and orange comes out of nowhere to hit the ground right in front of her, and she cusses loudly as whatever it is swings a leg at her head.

"Fuck! Knock it off, you bastard!"

It is as she stumbles to her feet and puts up a small shield to block another kick that Kyra gets a good look at the thing attacking her.

Holy fucking shit, it's a bear! A bear walking around on its hind legs! Kyra barely manages to dodge its next attack, so absorbed is she in staring at it. A _bear_ that walks on its hind legs _and knows kung fu_! That guy from in the auction house, the one huddled behind Law's seat wearing a fuzzy hoodie with ears -that was his actual head! Snapping out of her amazement, Kyra throws her arms up in front of her, palms out facing the bear, and then jerks them sharply downward. Her opponent crashes to the ground, limbs frozen. Kyra doesn't take the time to congratulate herself before running like hell in the opposite direction.

Sadly, she hasn't gone very far when Law's voice rings out from behind her.

"Room..."

The air in front of her turns blue as a strange revving reverberates in her ears.

"Shambles."

Incredibly, the young sorceress finds herself once again standing between Trafalgar Law and Straw Hat Luffy, nearly colliding with the latter in the process; some distance in front of her is the very pissed-off figure of Eustass Kidd.

"What the fuck, Trafalgar? Move your own damn people around, you fucker!" Kidd is furious enough to have a fit, while Straw Hat appears to be having seizures of amazement.

"SO! COOL!"

Kyra merely stares in disbelief as the newest bane of her existence saunters over until he stands so close they're practically sharing the same breaths. A smug grin stretches the Heart Pirate captain's thin lips, flashing perfectly white teeth as it does so.

"You're not going anywhere, Miss," Law whispers in a voice that is almost _husky_ for reasons Kyra can't possibly fathom.

After a moment of stunned shock, she jerks slightly backwards and raises a hand. Law eyes it rather lazily, as though disbelieving that such a delicate appendage can do anything to him. Lucky for him, Kyra doesn't hate pirates the way she hates Marines; otherwise his arrogance would earn him a very painful death.

"Think again, _Mr._ Law," is all she says before snapping her fingers. The pirate crumples like a stringless marionette, asleep before he hits the ground.

As Kyra takes off running again, ignoring Straw Hat's shouts from behind her - "WAIT, LADY! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY CREW NOW, RIGHT?" - and zipping past Kidd in what she is sure is a new speed record for her, all she can think is that this definitely takes the cake as the weirdest day she's had in years.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>Two days after nearly being sold to a Supernova and the massacre that followed, Kyra sits in a shadowed corner of an unfamiliar bar, nursing her drink and trying to decide if she's hungry enough to risk ordering food here. Dives like this, you never know what meat they might be serving you. Her normal hangout has been closed down due to the mysterious disappearance of its owner - who just so happens to have been the same bartender that drugged her drink and got her sent to a human auction. Right now, whatever's left of him is digesting in the belly of a particularly hungry Sea King.<p>

Opting against food after watching a waitress walk by with a platter of something terrifyingly reminiscent of vomit, the mage downs the last of her rum and raises the empty mug at the barkeep. The older man nods in acknowledgement before sending another of his girls over with a refill. The girl gets a thousand beri tip and a small smile before Kyra leans back into the shadows.

She has been attempting to lay low since the shit hit the fan at the auction house. With rumors of Admiral Kizaru and the Warlord Bartholomew Kuma both wreaking havoc up and down the island, the end of that first day had been spent in a mangrove tree deep in the lawless district. Kyra had watched from her hiding place as other mangroves were demolished by strange beams of golden light and multiple explosions constantly shook the ground. The chaos had continued until dusk fell, and she had spent the night catching catnaps while the smell of burnt wood and the sounds of clean-up crews bustling around had filled the air along with the bubbles the island is famous for.

Yesterday the tired and cranky sorceress had risked venturing to her dingy little apartment for her clothes and the substantial hoard of cash hidden under the floorboards. Nothing else was of any import to her, and all her other worldly possessions were left for her ass of a landlord to sell or trash at his discretion. The rest of that day had been spent at the docks, trying to pick up any news without being noticed at the same time.

Her efforts had gleaned quite a few interesting little tidbits. For example, the reason for the simultaneous presence of so many of the Supernovae was due to the upcoming execution of notorious pirate Fire Fist Ace, commander of the second division of the Whitebeard Pirates. Apparently fortune would have it that all eleven super rookies made it to Sabaody around the same time, and now even those that have already obtained a coating for their ships are waiting until after the execution before setting off again. In fact, the only two Supernovae currently not on this island are Straw Hat Luffy and Pirate Hunter Zoro.

The story has gone out that shortly after fleeing the human auction house, the Straw Hat Pirates were attacked by the latest prototype of the Navy's new weapon - the Pacifistas. After narrowly managing to defeat the mechanical menace, Straw Hat Luffy and his crew were set upon by Amiral Kirazu and the real Bartholomew Kuma. No eyewitnesses to the fight existed, but it was strongly rumored that the Straw Hats had been completely annihilated, not even a trace of them left on the island. Kyra takes a sip of her drink, eyes staring fixed and unseeing at the tabletop. She can't help but feel sorry for the Straw Hat Pirates; from what she's heard in the last few months they were a crew of misfits that had been running around sticking it to the World Government and liberating the common people all at the same time. They didn't deserve what had been done to them.

More importantly, her sneaky eavesdropping had not given Kyra any concrete updates on the whereabouts of Trafalgar Law or his crew, something that bothers her immensely. That strange ability, the look that ruthless pirate had given her, the way he _spoke_ to her - Kyra would be much happier if she knew for sure just where exactly Law was skulking. She has no desire to run into him again - doubtless the Dark Doctor is most displeased with his involuntary naptime the other day. He'll probably be an even bigger pain in Kyra's ass if he shows up.

The thought has no sooner crossed her mind than the ill-humored god controlling her destiny decides to deposits a person in the booth across the table.

"Funny running into you here, Miss," the new arrival purrs.

Oh, dammit all to hell.

The Surgeon of Death sits across from her, his nodachi next to him leaned against the wall and that annoying little grin already plastered across his lips. Half a second later the same girl that brought Kyra her refill appears out of thin air next to the table; she sets a mug down in front of Law before vanishing again without a word. The drink is ignored for the moment as Law plants his elbows on the table and rests his chin upon his steepled fingers, all the while staring at Kyra with lazy eyes.

Kyra, on the other hand, is giving her unwanted companion the universal stank eye. "What the hell do you want?"

A nonchalant shrug is offered in reply. "I came in here for a drink. Just happened to see you hiding over here when I walked in and thought you might like some company. Hasn't anyone ever told you that it's a bad idea to drink alone?"

"You were alone, too," is the annoyed retort given.

He smirks at her as though she has just made his point for him. Irritated, the prickly young woman hunkers into the corner where her booth meets the wall, nearly hugging her grog to her chest as she does her best to ignore the man watching her like a hawk. Blue eyes dart quickly towards the bar, wondering if the owner would bother to lend a hand if one were requested.

"Don't bother, Miss. Mr. Barman isn't stupid enough to tangle with a Supernova."

Dammit. The cornered mage takes a large gulp of her grog, determined to finish it quickly and get the hell out of here. Something about this particular individual has little warning bells chiming faintly in the back of her head. Being around him like this is neither safe nor wise; getting away quickly seems like the best plan at the moment. Besides, annoying prick or not, Kyra doesn't kill pirates unless they try to kill her first.

Plus she's tired, hungry, and low on reserves of power - but Law certainly doesn't need to know that.

Slamming back the last of her drink, Kyra puts her mug back on the table and scoots her way out of the booth. Pausing only for a moment to fish the appropriate amount of beri from her pocket, she tosses the money down and books it for the door - all the time aware that Law is going to follow her as soon as he gets up from his seat. Hopefully she can lose him in a back alley somewhere.

Sure enough, about five steps out the door a black-sleeved arm is casually thrown over her shoulders. The ruthless bastard walks along next to her, much closer than is either polite or necessary; he's probably doing it just to grate on the exhausted mage's nerves. She considers trying to throw up a shield to push him away, but Kyra knows from experience that it won't work right now. With so little sleep the last few nights, way too much use of her powers in a very short period of time, and the fact that she hasn't eaten since yesterday, nothing short of a life threatening injury will be able to coax magic from within.

"So where are we going, Miss?"

Which means being stuck with the annoyance all but glued to her side.

"I'm going to find something to eat. _You_ can go to hell."

"Wonderful idea. I haven't eaten yet either; where would you suggest we go?"

_Fuck my life._

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law has often been called a ruthless, cold, evil man. This doesn't bother him, of course; he is a pirate. He is not Monkey D. Luffy or one of his crewmates, who go around saving people for the most inane reasons. He has killed; pillaged; tortured; and of course left the occasional ship of Marines or group of bounty hunters delightfully scrambled. He does what he wants when he wants with little thought to the consequences aside from assuring that his crew will not suffer overly much for his fun.<p>

Fun makes the world go round for the Surgeon of Death, and the grouchy woman under his arm is going to provide barrels of entertainment once he gets her back to his submarine. It's on the tip of his tongue to ask the woman why she isn't throwing him away from her if she so objects to his presence, but Law remembers how she collapsed after killing all those Marines and how her dainty little hand had been shaking like a leaf right before she put him to sleep. He suspects from how tired the girl looks that she has not rested properly in at least a few days, and if she hasn't had somewhere safe to sleep then it stands to reason she has not had easy access to food either.

Law doesn't think the younger woman _can_ get rid of him via her strange abilities, and the thought makes his grin broaden into a smile.

The woman rather abruptly tries to get out of close proximity with the Dark Doctor, stepping back and to the side in an effort to elude the long arm of Law. He smoothly moves to counter, this time dipping his arm around her back to rest on her opposite hip. The low growl immediately directed at him is easily felt through where the two are touching as Law's newest target vibrates with anger.

**_"Remove_** your hand before I break it off."

Law instantly retaliates to this order by pulling her closer, pleased when he doesn't explode or otherwise die in a grisly fashion. It would appear that he is correct in his assumption, and for the moment his unhappy companion is all bark and no bite.

"You're supposed to be taking me somewhere to eat, Miss," he reminds her, ignoring the look she sends him only because at the moment the threat in her eyes is empty. "You wouldn't want us to get separated, would you?"

"My name is _Kyra,_ not _Miss,"_ the woman grumbles, pulling away as much as she can when her hip is being cradled rather tightly by tattooed fingers. "And I can think of little else at the moment that would give me more pleasure than getting as far away from you as this island would allow. Feel free at any time to wander off on your own and not come back."

Law grins to himself, immensely pleased to have gotten a name out of her so easily. Doesn't this young mystery know any better than to hand out pertinent information to someone such as himself? The surgeon makes a mental note to ensure that once she joins his crew the woman's name is given only to those he approves of.

After walking around for awhile - Law teasing the girl every few minutes and enjoying the way her spine grows stiffer and stiffer after each comment - the pair end up at a sushi bar. Law, not being a big fan of raw fish, merely orders a drink while the hungry ex-slave sets about demolishing a plate piled high. He is amused at her lack of table manners, wondering if this is a sign of poor upbringing or just a testament to how hungry the woman really is.

"So how exactly did you end up in that auction house, Miss Kyra?" he inquires lazily, watching through half-lidded eyes as she pauses with a bit of fish halfway to her mouth. The meat is discarded back onto her plate, exchanged for the drink sitting to the girl's left.

"I went for a drink at a bar and got drugged," she informs him bluntly after a long swallow, clanging her mug back to the table. "My turn: did you enjoy your nappy time?"

This question brings a prominent frown upon the Dark Doctor's visage. He had not been happy to wake up roughly three minutes after passing out with Bepo standing protectively over him, Straw Hat Luffy and his crew nowhere to be seen and Eustass Kidd likewise missing in action. In fact, the only live people anywhere near him had been his crew and the ex-pirate-captain Jambal, still chained in his explosive collar near the entrance of the auction house and forced to wait for his masters to come claim him. Actually, the addition of Jambal to the Heart Pirates was about the only good thing to happen that afternoon; soon after had found Law and his men fighting alongside the Kidd Pirates against those Pacifistas.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to do, Miss Kyra," the doctor says in his most quiet, deadly voice. "I don't appreciate people toying with me. It would not be in your best interest to do something like that again."

Those pretty blue eyes that remind him of the sea are once again spitting a combination of scorn and venom, but before she can say anything, there is heard the click of a gun hammer cocking back.

"Lookie here, boys. Our favorite little test subject got herself a boyfriend."

The Surgeon of Death twists in his chair to regard the speaker. A handful of low-level Marines sit at the table directly behind his chair, which had been empty when Law sat down several minutes ago. One of them, a rather large and burly fellow with food stains decorating the front of his uniform, has risen from his seat to point a gun at Law's head wearing a triumphant grin. The pirate suspects that fellow does not represent the consensus in his group on this being the wisest course of action, for the rest of them are darting fearful looks at one another. They look uncertain as to whether or not to follow his lead. No surprise, considering the demonstration he and Kidd put on earlier that week against the Pacifista. Though whether it is him they are worried about tangling with or his dinner companion is not clear, as many seem to be regarding her with a measure of trepidation.

Before the Supernova can rise to take care of this little annoyance, Miss Kyra is standing somewhat protectively in between him and the table of Marines. Law makes another mental note to tease her for defending someone she's been treating like a pain in the ass at a later time. For now he shifts around in a circle so that he is straddling the chair and folds his arms over the backrest with chin resting on top of them to watch the show unfold.

"Aww, ain't that cute?" the big soldier sneers. "Look how fast she moves to shield lover-boy, he must be a pirate!"

"Roscoe," another Marine at the table speaks warningly to his comrade, "don't do anything stupid. You know what she's like!"

"Peh!" the oaf called Roscoe spits. "She ain't gonna do nothing with Admiral Kizaru still hangin' around! How 'bout it, eh?" He waves his gun in what is clearly meant to be a threatening manner. "You want a taste of what those pirates got? Still jumping to save scum like him from justice, _769?"_

Miss Kyra's back stiffens so fast that Law can hear several of her vertebrae pop in quick succession. Her deceptively dainty little hands ball into tight fists at her sides. She speaks, and her voice is so low that Law has to strain his ears to hear her.

"Thirty. Seconds," she hisses, words practically dripping with barely suppressed rage. "You have thirty seconds to get off your collective asses and out of my sight before your blood paints the walls. Starting now."

The one who spoke before rises and places a hand on Roscoe's shoulder. "Come on. Leave it. She's not worth the trouble."

The burly Marine only lets out a bark of laughter, before he pulls the trigger.

Law is on his feet instantly, hands poised to draw his nodachi and slice these men to pieces. Miss Kyra stumbles back, bumping into him and fisting a hand in the front of his hoodie to steady herself. A quick scan shows the blossoming flower of crimson on the left side of her chest, right over a lung. The doctor quickly wraps an arm around her waist to pull her behind him, but before anyone has the chance to move the girl makes a violent waving gesture towards the Navy personnel. The chortling Marine's head instantly rotates three hundred and sixty degrees - a full circle - snapping his spinal cord. He falls face first into his plate of food, dead as a doornail.

"Ten seconds," the murderess in Law's arms rasps out.

The table is empty of living Marines before the last syllable is heard. They take their fallen brother with them. Word will no doubt soon reach unfriendly ears regarding this incident. Now it's official: she has to come with him. But before he can advise her thus, Miss Kyra mutters something about the stupidity of her instincts before abruptly passing out, leaving the Heart Pirate captain standing there with an armful of woman, a head full of unanswered questions, and a wonderfully convenient reason to get his newest crew member back to his ship.

Somehow he just_ knows_ Miss Kyra is going to be a lot of fun when she comes to in the Dark Doctor's infirmary.

* * *

><p>When Kyra wakes up, it is to disorientation and pain along with a resolute wish that she had just run from that ass of a Marine instead of using magic without proper rest, damn her backward instincts to <em>hell.<em> That, and a stomach that just might be trying to digest itself from hunger since being undernourished and sleep deprived had zapped a substantial chunk of her energy along with that spent during her little fit. _Wonderful._

The twenty-something sorceress moans quietly, bringing a shaking hand up to prod at the ugly new scar on her chest. This brings a hiss, as the mark is extremely tender and the smallest poke is enough to send stars dancing in her vision. The exhalation in turn produces a hacking cough, which leads to another moan. Damn, she hurts all over. And this crappy little bed she's lying in doesn't do a damn thing comfort-wise; she may as well be lying on the floor for all the good it-

Wait. Why is she even _in_ a bed? Where _is_ she?

There is a small round window on the wall next to the bed. Kyra sits up, swaying slightly from vertigo, and looks out to view - water. Dark, featureless water in every direction as far as the eye can see. She looks back into the room, sees the bolts in the walls and the steel door. The mage then extends her senses outward, letting her magic brush through the walls of this place to get a sense of what she's dealing with. And she gets it, all right, even as she realizes that she's naked from the waist up and absentmindedly wraps the bed-sheet around her like a toga.

She is on a ship. A ship that can travel underwater. A ship that is _currently_ traveling underwater. Kyra's trapped miles beneath the surface of the sea in an unfamiliar ship while _half-naked_ and she has no idea how she got here.

Fuck.

Before she has time to properly panic, the steel door in the wall to her right is pulled open. Kyra slides unsteadily off the bed and tries not to wobble as Trafalgar Law strides into the room, his sword absent and that bear right behind him. Once they are both over the threshold of the doorway, the bear pulls the door shut.

"How are you feeling, Miss Kyra?"

Kyra wants to bolt. _Fuck._ He had taken advantage of her helplessness and brought her to his ship while she was unconscious. That bastard. She is never going to do him a favor again, instincts be damned.

At the moment said bastard is watching her try not to fall over with a smirk on his face. The bear's face is blank; Kyra can't read a damn thing from the furry features. In one... paw... it holds a satchel that bulges in odd places. Her hands, clenched in the remaining sheet of the bed behind her as they steady her balance, fist tightly. What do they want now?

More importantly, where the fuck is her shirt? Her other clothing is hidden in the higher branches of a mangrove tree, but she would _really_ like a shirt right about now.

"Where's my shirt?" she demands, wincing as she does so. Her throat feels dry as sandpaper; talking is honestly physically painful.

Law seems to notice her discomfort. He lopes toward her, ignoring the way she flinches away from his hand as he places it over her throat. His smirk vanishes, to be replaced with a frown.

"Swallow for me."

Kyra eyes him uneasily. His hand is large, easily wrapping around her neck; she is _not_ pleased with their current position. Hesitantly, she forces herself to swallow dry; maybe if she does he will take his hand away?

"Again."

Dammit.

Kyra tries to swallow again, just to get this over with and get him away from her, but her mouth and throat are now so dry as to make the act of swallowing impossible. Law nods once, his thumb stroking the skin on the side of her neck. Kyra jerks to the side, sliding away from him on unsteady legs and having to grab the side of the bed to keep from falling. Law apparently decides to ignore this; he turns his attention back to the bear standing silently by the door.

"Bepo, leave that here. I want you to go to the galley and tell Neil to warm up some of that soup from lunch. Bring a bowl of it and a pitcher of water back here."

"Yes, Captain."

Kyra flinches, staring at the bear as it drops the satchel and quickly exits the room. A walking, talking bear. How weird.

"Don't say anything to Bepo about the fact that he's a bear," Law breaks into her shock, moving towards the satchel with one hand in the pocket of his spotted jeans. "He's fairly sensitive about it. This has clothing in it for you; I didn't know what you like, so I had the boys pick up a few things. I had to cut your other top off to tend to your injuries. If you want something else you can grab it when we resurface; I took us down to ensure we weren't disturbed while I fixed you up."

Kyra says nothing, merely watches the captain as he walks back to the bed and sets the satchel on top of the pillow.

"Get out of that sheet. I want to look at the wound on your chest again to check the bleeding and the stitches."

Kyra goes pale in comprehension. Trafalgar Law, Surgeon of Death, Dark Doctor. _Doctor._ Oh, fuck. He's seen her _half-naked._ He'd stripped her and seen her _naked_ and he would have seen her back. Oh, fuck. _Fuck._

"Who - " she rasps, and then pauses to cough harshly. She can taste the faint, coppery tang of her own blood - no doubt left over from that bullet to the lung - and tries to force it down as she stifles her coughing in her shoulder. Wonderful, that's just what she needs: let the crazy doctor watch her cough up blood. As if he isn't already going to pester her with a hundred prying questions.

Regaining control of her annoying lungs, Kyra turns her head to the pirate captain and asks, "Who else was in here when you stripped me?"

"No one. No one comes into the infirmary except me unless they are hurt or ill." He doesn't ask why she wants to know, but from the sudden lack of a smirk she figures he is well aware of the reason.

Thank the gods for small mercies, anyway.

"Why am I on your ship?" she whispers; she would have preferred to scream it but her throat isn't really working properly at the moment.

Law takes a step towards her and Kyra immediately moves away, backing up on unsteady legs until her back hits the wall. She tenses, disliking the feeling of being cornered, and eyes Law with a look that is freakishly reminiscent of a mouse looking at the cat about to eat it.

Law is smirking again. "I'm not going to hurt you, Miss Kyra. I'm not in the habit of injuring my crew."

"I'm not part of your crew, you dumb fuck," she snaps in response. "I don't _want_ to be part of your crew."

The smirk is getting bigger, and Law is edging closer every second. "You have quite the foul mouth for a young lady. Is that any way to speak to your new captain, Miss Kyra?"

"Dammit, just leave me alone!"

This time she really does scream, and the blood she coughs up a moment later is as impossible to hide as the look of shock on Trafalgar Law's handsome face. She spits a glob of bloody gunk onto the floor to keep from choking, wincing as she watches that blood soak into the metal floor and vanish. _Fuck._ Just..._ fuck._

"Now, that is something I've never seen before." Goddammit, now he sounds horribly interested. "Perhaps you can tell me if there is anything unusual your blood is going to be doing to my ship, Miss Kyra?"

"It'll eat a giant hole in the lower regeins and drown your precious crew," she invents wildly.

He apparently does not approve of this reply; his hand is immediately at her throat again, squeezing hard enough to bruise.

"Well, then, if you plan on living longer than it takes for me to break your neck I suggest you do something to prevent any damage to my submarine. I may be thankful to you for assisting me back there, but that doesn't mean I have a problem killing you to protect my crew. Or maybe you could just admit that you were lying to me and stop treating me like a fool." All of this is said in a calm, cool voice; it reminds Kyra of business colleagues chatting over lunch.

The pointer finger on her left hand twitches slightly, and immediately Trafalgar Law is throw across the room to smash into the opposite wall. He hits the floor on his feet, an absolutely lethal look on his face that Kyra would bet money is usually a presage to somebody dying.

When she speaks, Kyra's voice is low and dangerous. "Don't you fucking threaten me, or I'll tear your guts out of your body without having to touch you."

To prove her point, Kyra's pinky finger on her right hand wriggles three times before an audible _crack_ reverberates through the room as Law's nose breaks. The Supernova quickly puts a hand to his shattered nose in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, all the while staring at Kyra with narrowed eyes.

Three more wriggles of her pinky, and Law's nose is once again flawless. Only the blood on his face and hand show that anything was ever wrong.

Absolute silence rings throughout the infirmary for five slow heartbeats.

"Don't fuck with me," Kyra whispers, already feeling the drain of using some of what little magic she has managed to rebuild. "Don't threaten me; don't touch me; and if you try to stop me from getting off this hunk of metal as soon as it resurfaces, I will strangle you with your own intestines. I refuse to be a part of your crew, I don't give a shit if you like that or not, _and I will not stay here just because you say so."_

The door opens again and Bepo walks in, a steaming bowl of soup and a jug in its paws. It pauses upon seeing its captain; its teeth flash in what Kyra is pretty sure is a snarl. She's hoping it won't jump at her; she'd really hate to have to kill the bear. It's just too...cute. Kyra has the sudden mad urge to go over and scratch the bear behind its ears; she squashes it before she puts herself in a position to get mauled.

"It's fine, Bepo." Law's voice is just as calm and cool as ever; a glance at his face reveals that same easygoing grin that annoys the hell out of her. "Just a little misunderstanding. Leave the soup over here."

The bear is slow to obey, eyeing Kyra the whole time it's in the room as though waiting for her to throw herself at it or its captain at any moment. Kyra figures it's still unhappy about the fact that she paralyzed it. Once it sets the bowl and the jug down on the stainless steel table beside Law, Bepo looks to its captain and speaks again with an impossibly deep voice.

"Do you need anything, Captain?"

Law shakes his head. "Tell the men we're having a meeting at sundown. We'll surface for the night and meet on the deck. Let Gable know."

"Yes, Captain."

Sorceress and surgeon are both silent until the door once again closes behind his fluffy subordinate. Leaning back against the wall and folding his arms over his chest, Law regards Kyra smugly under the fur of his hat.

"Hungry?" he asks, that certain purr in his voice which does weird things to Kyra's insides. "This is great soup. Why don't you come over here and have some? I promise I don't bite unless you ask me to."

Kyra wonders how this man doesn't sink his own sub with the sheer size and weight of his ego. She briefly considers denying her hunger, but her traitorous stomach chooses that moment to growl obnoxiously. Predictably this is enough to set the Dark Doctor off, as he laughs at the mage while she burns red in embarrassment. Giving him a look that plainly tells him to go to hell, Kyra lowers herself to sit cross-legged on the floor against the wall across the room from him - careful to keep her sheet-toga securely wrapped around her torso - and crooks a finger at the bowl of soup. It rises off the table and floats gently towards her, coming to rest safely in her lap with nary a drop spilled.

"Go fuck yourself," she replies politely just before taking a sip of the soup. He's right; it _is_ great stuff.

That grin of his gets wider. "What kind of Devil Fruit is that?"

Kyra pauses with a spoonful of soup halfway to her mouth so that she can give Law a purposely confused look. "Did I say it was a Devil Fruit? Damn, my mistake. All this lying to get assholes like you off my back is corrupting my moral compass."

"Is it corrupting your vocabulary as well?"

"That's _au natural._ Not my problem you don't like it, jackass."

"Captain or Law works just fine, Miss Kyra."

"You're not my captain, _jackass."_

A dismissive wave of the hand is given in response to that statement. "You'll change your mind eventually."

Kyra opts to ignore that; she's really fucking hungry and this soup is probably the best she's ever had. If Law wants to delude himself into thinking he's snagged another crewmember by kidnapping her, that's his problem. She won't hesitate to kill the smug bastard if he tries to stop her from leaving at the first opportunity, general admiration for pirates or no. Her freedom is everything to her; the sorceress refuses to let anyone chain her will in any way ever again.

"I don't need you to check whatever stitches you put in my chest," she tells him instead, swallowing down a mouthful of soup. "They aren't there anymore anyway. I wasn't kidding when I told you I didn't need medical attention back at the auction house; sewing me up like that was completely pointless. Don't do it again."

A vaguely familiar look, cold and ugly with its promise of violence, settles on Law's visage. He watches her through those strange icy eyes of his, clearly not pleased about something. Kyra fails to see why she should care; the pirate's lucky he's not currently splattered all over his own little infirmary.

"I believe I've told you before not to give me orders, Miss Kyra," he reminds her in a voice that has the hairs on the back of her neck rising in warning. He is dangerous right now, in his refusal to be commanded in any way. She is fairly certain he would kill her were she anybody else who had just done that.

"I don't care if you like orders or not," she retorts, supremely unconcerned. She'll shield if he tries anything; no way is she letting him touch her again if she can avoid it. But those powers of his are going to be another matter, one not so easily dealt with... "If you're expecting me to cower at that look and beg you not to hurt me, I hope you like being disappointed. It'll snow in Hell before I beg you for anything."

The ugly look slowly melts from Law's face as Kyra turns her full attention to the rest of the soup. She has no idea how long she was out, or exactly how much magic she expended while unconscious and healing; anywhere from two hours to two days might have passed. She's _really_ hungry - an unknown number of ribs and the messed up lung probably required a large portion of magic to fix, plus dissolving the unneeded stitches and knitting her skin back together.

"You can have more if you're still hungry, Miss Kyra. You were unconscious for several hours and that power seems to take a lot out of you. I'm sure it wasn't easy - even for you - to heal a twice-punctured lung and a fractured rib." The ruthless murderer across from her is once more relaxed in both posture and expression, his voice back to the odd liquid growl he seems to prefer when speaking to her. Kyra wonders for a moment if this man is trying to seduce her into joining his crew; she quickly discards that idea. Surely someone like Trafalgar Law wouldn't be stupid enough to try that, right?

Clambering to her feet, the slightly sore magician reluctantly shuffles over to the duffel bag the bear had carried in for her earlier, plopping back down next to it and pulling it into her lap. Once opened, an array of clothing is revealed to curious blue eyes. Kyra takes a few pieces out for further scrutiny, trying to ignore the way Law is still watching her. Shirts of various colors and cuts; trousers in kaki, black, and denim; socks; underwear; even bras - the last two groups of clothing earning the Dark Doctor a cold look. Dumping what's left in the bag on the floor, she finds hair ties; a brush; a small bottle of shampoo and a decent sized bar of lavender-scented soap. This last item prompts Kyra to wonder just how the hell the pirate figured out what her favorite scent is, but she refuses to give him the satisfaction of asking.

A forest-green tank top and a pair of baggy black cargo pants are set aside along with underwear and a bra. A plain tie is used to secure Kyra's mop of unruly curls. The socks are all flung disdainfully in Law's general direction with a wave of one hand; everything else is deposited back in the duffel.

"Is it unreasonable to suppose that you'd get out so I can get dressed? Maybe you could wash the blood off your face and your hand, unless you _like_ walking around advertising the fact that I broke your nose." The barbs are sneered at the grinning surgeon, standing there oh-so-casually against a wall in his own infirmary and surrounded by socks of various colors. In answer, he straightens up, sticks his hands in the pockets of his spotted jeans, and practically oozes out of the room. He pauses to shoot a grin at the toga-clad mage right before she bangs the door shut in his face.

The sorceress has only been in the doctor's presence for a handful of hours - part of that time spent unconscious - and _already_ he's driving her crazy. If she ever did agree to join his crew, no doubt she'd crack from the constant strain and butcher everyone on this ship in a matter of days!

It doesn't matter. Kyra is _not_ going to join Trafalgar Law's crew. She will never be forced to use her magic for someone else's gain again.

Come hell or high water, Kyra is going to get away from the Surgeon of Death, regain her liberty, resume her solitude, and take charge of her destiny!

All this, right after she grabs a bite to eat. Priorities.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>Kyra sits morosely upon the deck of Trafalgar Law horrendously yellow submarine, legs shoved into the gaps of the railing to hang freely over the water as she gazes rather forlornly out to sea. She is less than pleased with her week so far. It is very late; the sun has long since gone to sleep beyond the horizon and millions of stars serve as the only lights in the night sky. The sorceress has sat in the same place for hours, skipping whatever evening meal might have been served and ignoring her body's need to sleep. Oblivion is a long time coming this night; too many different things chase each other around in her head.<p>

In the hours that have passed since Kyra woke to find herself on Law's vessel, she has come to realize that in spite of her most fervent wishes to the contrary she is going to be stuck with the man for some time. Even worse, she really can't blame anyone for that odious fact but herself. She has killed a Marine while in the company of a notorious pirate; killed to _protect_ that pirate. Even if the other Marines present had been too caught up in trying to figure out whether or not their comrades' stupidity was going to get them butchered to notice, eventually someone is going to realize that the man accompanying her was the Supernova known far and wide as the Surgeon of Death. This does not bode well for her continued security. Kyra has effectively handed the Navy and the World Government the excuse they need to put a huge bounty on her head and snatch her back from the freedom she has tried so hard to build for herself - especially when they find out that she punched a Tenryubito and forced two others into unconsciousness before killing about a hundred soldiers.

Back to the labs, back to that cold little cell, back to the experiments...

Maybe Kyra _will_ be better off with Law. As adamant as she's been against joining up with his crew, perhaps having him around to watch her back will be a plus. And at least if she's running around with a dangerous pirate there will be plenty of chances for her to butcher more Marines; that's always great. Hopefully the Dark Doctor will back off somewhat if she bows to his demands by coming with them; this strange intensity of his bothers the hell out of her.

In any case, she has already overheard the crew being informed that they will not be departing Saboady for another few days. Though the submarine is built for deep sea voyages and thus does not require a coating, the captain is apparantly going to wait until after the execution of that Whitebeard Pirate, Firefist Ace. Kyra can't fault him for his caution; Saboady is not far from the Navy Headquarters of Marineford, and with the strongest of the Navy personnel gathering for this event it would be unwise to set off and possibly get caught in the backlash of the monumental battle that is sure to take place. Even Kyra knows that Edward Newgate - Whitebeard himself - will do absolutely anything for those he considers his sons, even go to war to stop one of them from getting executed.

Because of the wait before departure, the crew has been given free rein to do whatever they want as long as they don't get themselves arrested or killed. The sub is therefore deserted, save for Kyra; the bear; a giant of a man in ragged clothing; and Law himself. Everyone else had bolted at sundown after their captain concluded their little meeting.

Kyra rests her head on the bars of the deck's railing and closes her eyes. What a fine kettle of fish she's gotten herself into this time. If only she had not gone for a drink that day; she never would have been in the auction house, never would have caught Law's attention, never punched a World Noble or recklessly killed all those Marines with so many witnesses. Now's she's going to have to go on the run with a bunch of pirates and hope like hell the Navy never gets its many hands on her. And they _will_ come after her, as soon as they realize that they have a new excuse to keep her.

Behind her, the door leading into the sub squeals as it is swung open. Kyra doesn't move; she's hoping it's just the bear coming out for some fresh air, or even the big guy deciding to do something on the island after all. Please, anyone but-

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to, Miss Kyra. Enjoying the view on such a beautiful night?"

_Damn you,_ harpies of Fate, damn you all to _hell._

Kyra is silent while the Heart Pirate captain swaggers over and sits beside her, his long legs hanging down next to hers as he leans back on his hands and smirks at the sky.

"I admit I'm slightly surprised. I would have thought you'd make tracks at the first opportunity just for the sake of pissing me off." His voice is teasingly mocking, no bite in the words he speaks.

"Like it would do any good," the sorceress grumbles, vaguely uncomfortable with Law's extreme proximity. What is it about this man and personal space issues?

"Dare I hope this means you'll take me up on my offer, then?" Surely she's imagining the unholy glee in his smooth baritone; surely someone like him isn't capable of feeling that kind of thing unless he's chopping people up in his operating room.

"I don't really have a choice, do I? This time tomorrow, every Marine on this stupid island is going to think I've shacked up with you guys anyway." Yeah, all thanks to her stupid fucking backwards impulses that just _insist_ she get shot for other people as often as possible.

"Wonderful." Law leaned forward and settled his chin on one knee, regarding her intently out of those pale ice-chip eyes. "Then as your captain, perhaps you won't mind telling me a little about this power of yours and how it works, and explaining why the man you killed today referred to you as '769'. Or if not that much, you can tell me how you came by all those scars on your back."

This is exactly what she does _not_ want to talk about. Knowledge, while valuable, is also dangerous. Kyra may want to punch the man next to her in the face for being an insufferable pain in her ass, but she does not want him to die because of her. She can probably tell him a little, but how much is too much? At what point will the World Government decide that she has shared herself too fully with Law and order every Marine in the Grand Line to hunt him down immediately?

The scars will _not_ be discussed. **_Ever._ **They are no one's business but Kyra's, and that is the way things shall remain.

"I'm not a Devil Fruit user," the mage begins, gaze fixed on some point in front of her so that she does not have to look at Law. "I was born with these powers. I can moves things with my mind without needing to touch them, speed things up, slow them down. That guy today? I manipulated the muscles in his neck and forced them to rotate past their capabilities. They took the blood vessels, tendons, bones and his spine along for the ride. When I killed those Marines at the auction house, all I did was freeze their joints and muscles so they weren't able to move."

"That's not entirely accurate, Miss Kyra," the surgeon interrupts, watching her very closely with his cool grey eyes. "You tore their hearts out. I don't think that was accomplished by freezing anything."

"Like I said, I can move things with my mind. A heart would technically be classified as a _thing."_

"What was the...haze you used to block Bepo's attacks?"

Kyra shifts slightly, wishing he would stop asking all of these questions. It reminds her of... other people. People who asked the same types of question, but only after causing her unimaginable amounts of pain so that she would be too weak to resist them. Sometimes it worked; other times it didn't. The young sorceress still wakes up shaking sometimes from the memories. Sometimes she wakes up screaming.

A hand grips her upper arm lightly, jolting her out of her thoughts faster than an electric shock. Kyra flinches and tries to pull away; he refuses to yield until she glances over at her inquisitive companion. Law studies her face for a long moment, both of them silent in their contemplation of each other.

"I don't know," she finally answers in a defeated voice, looking away out to the sea once more. "I don't know what it is, exactly. Magic, I guess. It's always been there. I can use it to make a shield like I did at the auction; if that's around me nothing can touch me, not blades or bullets or a fucking cannon ball. I should have just pulled up a shield earlier, but I didn't think about it at the time."

"Is it the same thing that healed you?" His voice is almost clinical, but still interested; maybe this is the doctor in him coming out a little.

"Yeah."

Law hums slightly, his tattooed hand still gently gripping Kyra's arm. The thumb starts to move back and forth across her skin, and Kyra shivers before she can stop herself. Embarrassed, she pulls away and crosses both arms over her chest.

"How large can you make one of those shields?"

Instead of verbally responding to this question, the mage inhales a deep breath before gathering the magic sleeping just beneath her skin and pushing it outwards. Instantly a dark, translucent pall washes over the pair; it extends itself outward, stopping a short ways in front of them and continuing behind. Less than half a minute later the entire submarine is encased in a sheer shell of magical protection. The origin of that charm relaxes, leaving the shield where it is for the time being. Beside her, the Dark Doctor's smirk has stretched even further across his face; there is a certain gleam in his eye as though he is planning something truly spectacular.

"That... is _very_ interesting," he purrs, obviously immensely pleased with the demonstration. Kyra lets the shield fall, getting to her feet as she does so.

"Done with the interrogation for tonight?" The words come out quieter and more emotional than she had intended. It's just that _look..._that look she's seen on so many other faces. Always wanting to use her, use her powers, make her their secret weapon whether she wants it or not. Kyra guesses she shouldn't be surprised to see it on the face of a pirate, someone who is used to taking what they want without care for permission. Whatever; it's been a long few days and she's beyond tired. All she wants to do right now is rest.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

Law gains his footing as well, sauntering towards her with a grin firmly in place. Once he gets to the point where Kyra feels that he is close enough, she steps back. The captain stops, giving her a curious look.

"You're not afraid of me, are you Miss Kyra?" he asks, voice surprisingly gentle. "As I told you in the infirmary this afternoon, I don't make a habit of hurting my crew."

"And I could kill you in a heartbeat," she returns matter-of-factly, careful to say it in as non-threatening a way as possible. "I'm not afraid of you, Law. You just need to figure out how to respect an individual's personal space."

The little grin on Law's face morphs into a smirk slowly enough to ring a few warning bells in Kyra's mind.

_Oh, crap._

She quickly turns and all but jogs for the door leading into the sub, calling over her shoulder as she does so. "I'm going to bed."

She almost makes it, too, but a tattooed hand grabs her wrist as she goes through the door, pulling her up short.

"I'll come with you, Miss Kyra," the captain announces quite calmly, face back to its usual grin and secrets dancing in his eyes. "After all, you don't know where you're sleeping yet, do you?"

Dammit.

Holding onto her wrist with a grip just firm enough that the mage would have to struggle to get her hand back, Law eases past and begins walking. They go down a hallway Kyra has yet to traverse, leading deeper into the sub than the infirmary or the kitchen - which she had raided after changing clothes this afternoon in a successful attempt to quell her enormous appetite. One of the doors they pass is slightly open; Kyra can hear two sets of rumbling snores within the dark room, which confirms that it is the crew's sleeping quarters. She is a little surprised when the captain tugs her further on, having assumed she would bunk with the rest of the crew. At the end of the long hallway Law stops. The surgeon releases her hand and pulls a key from his pants pocket, which he uses to unlock the door on the left-hand side of the corridor. Once open, he steps back and motions for Kyra to precede him inside.

The room is of modest size, empty except for the bed shoved into one corner and bolted to the floor, and the satchel full of clothing she had left in the infirmary earlier. Two circular windows in the far wall would let in a small amount of light were it daytime; as it is, for the moment all that is visible is darkness. Another door in the wall to her right catches the mage's attention. She turns back to the man in the doorway with a question on the tip of her tongue. Before she can ask, however, the room is flooded with light, momentarily blinding her.

"That door leads to your private bathroom," Law explains as Kyra blinks rapidly, trying to clear the spots from her eyes. "You'll sleep in here. This key -" -which he tosses to her- "- is yours. I have an extra that will stay with me. You are to lock the door every night, no exceptions. You are not to enter the crew's sleeping quarters at night for any reason barring a life or death emergency. If one of my men attempts to cajole you into their sleeping quarters, you are to tell me immediately. You are not to enter the room across the hall from this one for any reason without my permission; that's my room. As I told you before, usually no one goes into the infirmary except me without being sick or injured, but I'd like to see more of this healing power of yours so for you I'll make an exception. I'll have Bepo show you around more tomorrow. Any questions?"

The newest and most reluctant member of the Heart Pirates eyes her captain for the space of seven heartbeats. "You might want to warn your crew that if any of them puts a hand on me in a way I don't like, they'll be in the infirmary for a month. Same goes for you, _Captain._ I'm nobody's whore."

"Noted. Anything else?"

"...Why did you bid on me?"

Law is silent for a long moment, his eyes hidden under the shadow cast by that furry hat he wears. His lips turn up at the corners in a smile, and he turns to leave, stuffing one hand in his pocket and grasping the doorknob with the other. Just as the door is about to shut, the doctor twists around and raises his head to meet the sorceress's gaze.

"Would you believe me if I told you it was because I thought your attitude was amusing? Regardless, I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun in the New World, Miss Kyra. Good night."

The door closes behind him with a soft click; there is the sound of a key turning in the lock, footsteps, another door opening and closing - and then silence.

Kyra kills the lights with a wave of her hand as she walks to the bed, falling face first into the mattress once she's close enough. Thankfully this bed is much more comfortable than that torture device she'd woken up on in Law's surgical theatre; otherwise she'd be sleeping on the floor. She kicks off her pants and crawls under the covers, pondering what her new captain has just told her. Had he really bid on her for no other reason than he thought it was funny that she was so pissed at the thought of being sold? Because he thought she'd be fun to have around in the New World?

...Maybe he had a few screws loose upstairs. Insanity would explain a lot of his behavior.

Just before the exhausted woman drifts off to sleep, she waves her hand in the direction of the door, modifying the lock so that Law's extra key will no longer work on it. She might be biting the bullet and joining Law's crew, but that doesn't mean she won't take every measure available to protect herself - _especially_ from the Surgeon of Death himself. And besides, if he wants her to be 'fun' in the manner he had seen in the auction house, Kyra will be happy to drive him even more crazy than he already may or may not be while keeping him on his toes at the same time.

Perhaps this won't be such a disaster after all.

* * *

><p>When Law ambles into the galley the next morning at the crack of dawn, sock-footed and hatless, he is mildly surprised to see his newest crewmate sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the wall in a corner of small dining area, a steaming mug gripped lightly in her hands. It is rare for anyone to rise before the captain in the mornings; usually the men don't get up until he pounds on their door to wake them. Bepo always joins him after about an hour of drinking coffee alone, but unless he's been in an emergency surgery all night and rises late, no one is ever up before Law.<p>

And from the look on her face, the Dark Doctor would bet money that his little magician is _not_ a morning person.

"Good morning, Miss Kyra. Did you sleep well?"

A baleful look and a mutter that sounds suspiciously like 'fuck you' are his only answers. Law chuckles to himself as he fills his own mug from the steaming coffee pot, pleased that for once he isn't the one who made it. This could be the start of a wonderful morning tradition if he's lucky. Loping over to the table, he takes his seat at its head and props his feet up, sipping his coffee and regarding the grouchy woman over the rim of his cup.

"You aren't actually my slave, if you remember, Miss Kyra," he teases her. "You _can_ sit at the table if you'd like. I won't punish you."

"...Does it matter where I choose to sit?"

Law shakes his head, flapping one hand in a dismissive gesture. "This chair's mine. Otherwise, you may sit anywhere you like."

Miss Kyra stands up and places her mug on the table, one chair down and to the left of where the doctor reclines. "What do you guys usually do for breakfast around here?"

"Normally, I'm the only one awake early enough for breakfast. In any case, my ship's cook is currently gallivanting around the island with the majority of my crew, and I'm not much of a chef. Why do you ask?"

Instead of answering his question, Miss Kyra circles around the table and heads for the kitchen. Law watches with interest, sipping his coffee, as the woman rummages around in the cupboards before raiding the ship's well-stocked fridge and pantry. After fiddling with the stove for a moment, a pan is banged down upon a burner and Miss Kyra goes to work. The surgeon has no idea what she is making, only noting that if she doesn't clean up her substantial mess before his cook returns a war may be initiated.

Bepo stumbles in sleepily as Law polishes off the last of his coffee, his nose working furiously before his beady black eyes swing to his captain.

"Is Neil awake already, Captain?" The bear's deep voice is even more gravelly than usual due to his half-asleep state.

"Neil isn't here. Miss Kyra decided to make us breakfast this morning."

Bepo blinks at him for a moment before turning and going into the kitchen. Law watches with a grin as his first mate walks up behind the woman at the stove, getting very close to her before speaking. "Will you make bacon, too?"

"**SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!"**

The Surgeon of Death bursts out laughing as Bepo is tossed from the kitchen via the girl's shield, smacking into the wall behind the table and sliding to the ground with a thump. He should probably check to make sure the bear isn't harmed, but the stunned look on the furry face and the girl's continued yelling - _**"DOES NOBODY ON THIS FLOATING HUNK OF SHIT KNOW WHAT THE HELL PERSONAL FUCKING SPACE IS!" -** _combines into something simply too funny for the sarcastic surgeon. Even the wet rag that smacks him in the cheek a moment later - "Fuck you and your breakfast entertainment, bastard!" - can't quite dampen his hilarity. Bepo simply moves his bulk to cower behind his captain, giving the fuming mage in the kitchen a terrified look that sets Law off all over again.

Once he regains control of himself and his mirth has died down to the occasional chuckle, the grinning medic looks to the bear doing a poor job of hiding next to him and says, "Miss Kyra likes her space, Bepo. Don't get so close to her like that without her permission unless it's an emergency."

"Yes, Captain."

Several minutes later, a towering pile of pancakes and a veritable mountain of bacon float over to settle on the table, accompanied by dishes for three place settings that arrange themselves before Law and two other chairs. Once the plates settle, pancakes and bacon begin moving themselves onto the empty plates. Law watches, facinated. The feast's chef marches over and puts the coffee pot on the table before moving to sit and pulling her mug toward her, all the while glaring at the bear still cowering on the floor.

"Are you going to eat or sit there and whimper?" she snaps, obviously still angry at the scare she had received.

Bepo wisely jumps to his feet and hurries to his plate, eyeing the grumbling mage as he does so. Law says nothing, choosing instead to tuck into the delicious meal while pondering the extent of Miss Kyra's impressive control. A quick glance towards the kitchen shows that the dishes used to prepare the meal are currently washing themselves, a towel floating in the air to dry them and the cleaned dishes whizzing back to their proper places. Miss Kyra is already inhaling the food before her, displaying the same lack of table manners he noted at the sushi bar, but the slight look of concentration tells the curious pirate what he wants to know.

_Quite the multi-tasker, Miss Kyra._

"Bepo, after breakfast I want you to show Miss Kyra around the sub. Everywhere except my room and the crew's quarters."

The fluffy first mate's head snaps around to gaze imploringly at him, but Trafalgar's calm and level gaze directed at him is enough to send his shoulders sagging. "Yes, Captain."

Miss Kyra huffs, grumbling something under her breath, but otherwise does not object.

When all of the food has been consumed and a slightly-less-irritated sorceress clears the table with a gesture, Law stands from his seat and heads for the door leading to the hallway. He pauses as he is about to leave the room, glancing over his shoulder at the woman and the bear before grinning again.

"After your tour, Miss Kyra, come knock on my door. I have some errands to run on the island this afternoon and would like for you to come with me."

"Fine."

"Good. And don't kill Bepo."

_"...Fine."_

Law passes the rest of the morning reading the most recent medical journal in his room, having bought it a few days ago to peruse during his free time. Being an infamous pirate captain with a two hundred million beri bounty on his head is not usually conducive to keeping astride of the medical world, but no one can ever say the North Blue native is one to shirk a challenge. Especially when the lives of his crew might be at stake due to his lack of knowledge.

Absorbed in his reading, the physician loses all track of time until three sharp knocks are given upon his closed bedroom door. Standing up and stretching to pop the kink out of his back, he tosses the medical text onto his desk and reaches for his nodachi and hat before striding to the door. Miss Kyra leans on the wall to his right, hands stuffed in the pockets of the trousers she wears and a mildly bored expression on her face.

"And how was the tour, Miss Kyra?" he asks in a purposely mocking tone as he dons his favored headwear. She glares at him in answer, not amused when he chuckles at her. "Shall we go then?"

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, here and there."

The woman is silent as they make the transition from seagoing vessel to dry land, following at Law's side as he winds his way through the crowded archipelago. They stop at a medical supply store to stock up on bandages; Law bribes the owner and is able to acquire quite a bit of morphine, which considering where he plans on going with his crew will doubtless come in handy. Afterwards the Supernova leads his new crew member aimlessly around the island, hoping to run into one of his fellow rookies so that he can test her capabilities. Miss Kyra shadows him without a word the whole time, looking for all purposes as though she is bored out of her mind.

Finally, fortune chooses to smile upon him. Law comes to an abrupt stop, grin stretching across his face while Miss Kyra eyes him questioningly. "What are you doing?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Bonney."

Stomping down the way towards them is "The Glutton" Jewelry Bonney, the South Blue native and the only woman among the ranks of the Supernova. Several members of her crew follow behind her, one of whom carries what looks to be a large picnic basket. The pink haired woman is chowing down on a slab of meat almost as tall as she is, flecks of food decorating her cheeks.

"Ah? What do you want, bastard?" she barks at him around a mouthful. Next to him, Law can see Miss Kyra shuddering.

"Actually, I was hoping you would give my friend a demonstration of your Devil Fruit abilities," the surgeon explains politely, ignoring the surprised look from Miss Kyra. "Something of a test for her, if you don't mind."

"Get lost, toothpick! I'm not some show pony to do tricks for you!"

Law smiles coldly, beginning to lose patience with this womans' rudeness. "Perhaps you're afraid of looking like a greater fool than usual? Rest assured, Miss Bonney, I very much doubt that's possible."

Before Jewelry Bonney can form a reply, the large piece of meat she is chewing on tugs itself from her grasp - and then quite suddenly slaps the woman across the face. The Bonney Pirates and their captain stare as the meat then drops to the ground, clearly flabbergasted. Law, smelling a rat, glances over to see Miss Kyra wearing a large and toothy grin.

"Test, huh? Fine then; I'll make her use her Devil Fruit."

The sorceress steps forward, holding one hand palm upwards in front of her. She brings her arm up until her hand is over her head; as she does so, the Bonney Pirates rises as one into the air, all except for their startled captain. Miss Kyra holds up one finger and begins to rotate her elevated arm; the airborne crew spins in an impossibly fast circle, screaming all the while.

"CAPTAIN BONNEY! GET US DOWN! CAPTAIN BONNEY!"

"What are you doing, bitch!" the pinkette screams, her face losing whatever attractiveness it might have as she snarls in anger. In answer, Miss Kyra closes her hand into a fist and yanks it downward. The Bonney Pirates immediately hurtle earthwards, smashing to the ground and actually indenting where they land.

Law is vastly amused, and Miss Kyra is grinning like a devil.

"Still say no to my test?" the mage taunts.

Jewelry Bonney lets out an inarticulate scream of rage and flings her arm out, pointing directly at Miss Kyra. For a moment, nothing happens; and then Law watches with a smirk as Miss Kyra begins to de-age, her face and figure changing while her body shrinks until the clothes she wears no longer fit. By the time the process is complete, Miss Kyra looks no more than three years old; the child stands in the puddle of her pants, clutching her top in an attempt to keep it from falling off and wearing a look of complete outrage.

For the second time that day, Trafalgar Law bursts into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He laughs so hard his sides ache; were he a lesser man, tears would be forming in his eyes.

"Fuck you, bastard! Stop laughing at me!" The child glares at him from her too-large eyes, spewing words that would make the raunchiest sailor's ears bleed with a voice that should have old women simply _flocking_ to pinch her cheeks. "Next time you can be the kid! See how funny you think it is then, asshole!"

In a blinding flash of pure white light, Miss Kyra is standing there adjusting her pants as a result of her impromptu decrease in size her face the color of freshly spilt blood. She steps over and swings at Law, who manages to dodge in spite of laughing so hard as to make breathing difficult. Jewelry Bonney and her battered crew have already disappeared, so there is no one else upon whom the magic-user can take out her anger. Fuming, Miss Kyra marches away from the hysterical pirate, who forces himself to regain some composure in order to go after her.

"I have to say, Miss Kyra: you make a very sweet little girl."

"Oh, shut up!"

* * *

><p>Kyra hunches over her mug of tea, glaring into the liquid with venom. She has still not completely calmed down after this afternoon's little adventure. Fucking Law setting her up to get humiliated...and she actually <em>went along<em> with him until it was too late..._and_ she didn't even get to kill that bitch with the pink hair! Today has sucked royally, and Kyra wonders darkly if this kind of shit is going to happen every day now that she will be traveling with the Heart Pirates and their fucking sadistic ass of a captain.

Does he even know how _hard_ it is to do something like what he had forced her to need to do? She had to speed her body back up through the aging process from roughly three to around twenty! That's seventeen years, which she had forced her body to experiance in seconds! It had _not_ been pleasant, and she is not happy that Law managed to goad her into that situation. She had thought messing with the pink-haired woman would be fun - which it was until the whole turning-into-a-fucking-kid part.

She'd been feeling so good earlier, too. Now Kyra's right back to where she was yesterday: bone-tired; drained; and feeling like she hasn't eaten for too long.

Stupid fucking Law and his stupid, fucked-up sense of humor...

"Um..."

The furious sorceress looks up to see that the bear - Bepo - is standing in the doorway to the galley, where Kyra sits nursing both her tea and her anger. She hasn't seen him since the conclusion of their very quick tour of the sub before she went running off with Law. That had been a waste of time, as the bear had been so afraid of her after the incident at breakfast as to mumble anything he might have said so low she hadn't been able to understand. When he had carried out his captain's orders to their fullest Bepo had quickly fled, the fur on the back of his head fluttering with his speed.

"What," Kyra states flatly, her tone much too even to be considered a question. Bepo quivers slightly, obviously still nervous about the crazy woman sitting at his crew's table.

"Um...can I...sit with you? At the table? For a while?"

"...Whatever."

Bepo apparently decides this means yes. To Kyra's surprise, the bear walks over and sits in the chair right next to her, his orange suit almost sparkling in the room's light. Kyra ignores him, taking a sip of her tea; cute and fluffy bear sitting next to her or not, she is still pissed. She wonders again just what the hell Law was hoping to see, that he would goad a rival pirate into turning a newly acquired crewmate into a child. She can't seem to find any logic in such an act, and is seriously starting to consider that the Dark Doctor really is batshit insane.

As she ponders this, Kyra hears a slight snuffling sound coming from her left. Looking over, she is slightly disturbed to realize that the noise she heard is from the fact that the bear is _sniffing_ her.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" she blurts out incredulously. Bepo pauses, regarding her with an innocent look in those black eyes.

"Sniffing you."

Well, that's one way to come out and say it.

_"Why_ are you sniffing me?"

"You smell good."

Oh, for Roger's sake!

"And since you're going to be our crewmate now, I want to memorize your scent so I don't accidently hurt you in a fight. Sometimes I lose my rationality if the battle's really severe, and I don't want to attack you if that happens."

"...Whatever."

The bear goes back to quietly sniffing her. Kyra puts her elbows on the table and covers her face with her hands, fighting the urge to either burst into tears or start laughing like a maniac. One thing she knows for sure: whatever Law's mental state might be, too much time spent with this crew and Kyra will be just as cracked as they are.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p><em>She is strapped to a table, her small form unable to move as the man with the needle draws closer. She is crying; her body aches all over, she is so hungry it feels as though her stomach is a lead weight, and all she wants to do if run. Run or swim or fly away until she finds her mother and can sob into the arms of someone who loves her.<em>

_Why won't the magic help her? She needs it, but she can't make it do anything today. It's right there, right under her skin, but the only time she's been able to draw it out was when the man with the knife cut her leg down to the bone. She had screamed, and the magic came to help her. Now she screams again as the needle is jabbed into her flesh, as fire races through her veins and sets her body alight. She screams and screams, begging the magic to help her, but nothing happens._

_Nothing is going to save her this time._

* * *

><p>Kyra bolts upright with a shout, arms swinging at imaginary attackers. She is totally confused for a moment, forgetting where she is until she tumbles out of her bed and hits the floor in her room with a dull thud.<p>

Right. Law's sub. Not the labs. She is on Law's sub, the windows are letting in the first rays of the dawn sun, and she is alone. No one is in her room; no one is about to inject her with poison or stab her in the leg or make her drink toxic chemicals. She's alone, relatively safe, and she just had a nightmare which is why her cheeks are coated with tears. She has no idea why her throat is so sore, but that hardly matters. Everything's perfectly fine.

A sharp, impatient knock on the door of her room has the shaken mage flinching from her position on the floor.

"Miss Kyra." The captain, sounding half asleep and more than a little irritated. "I will _not_ ask again. Open the damn door _now_ or I'm going to bust it down."

Kyra scrambles into the closest pair of pants as she hurries for the door, summoning her key to her hand and shoving it into the lock all in the same movement. She has forgotten that with people sleeping so close - as in right across the hall - it would have been a good idea to put up a soundproof shield around her bed before surrendering to her dreams each night. Too much time living alone has spoiled her to the drawbacks of living in close quarters with others.

The door unlocks and is immediately forced open, causing Kyra to step back or risk getting a black eye. Law strolls in, wearing only a pair of sleeping pants that cover a good portion of his feet with their length, and shoves the door closed behind him. He looks around the room for a moment, eyes lingering on the disheveled bedding, before fixing his gaze on the only other occupant of the chamber. Almost immediately his thin eyebrows attempt to hit his hairline.

"Are you crying?"

The flustered woman immediately brings up both hands to scrub furiously at her cheeks, extremely embarrassed. Caught with tears on her face by the ever-so-sarcastic Surgeon of Death; this would be the perfect time for lightning to mysteriously come through the ceiling of her room and kill her on the spot. Maybe once he leaves Kyra can suffocate herself with a pillow.

"No," she answers rather feebly to his question, looking everywhere but at her unamused guest.

"Don't lie to me." Shit; now Law is using his serious voice. The sorceress has noticed in the past couple of days that he only uses that voice when he is determined to get an answer even if he must pick apart your brain to extract it.

"Look, I had a nightmare, okay?" she snaps at her captain, in no mood to deal with him right now. "I'm not _crying,_ really, it's just the aftereffects of a bad dream. Everything's fine."

Law takes a step towards her, his eyes narrowing when she automatically flinches slightly. "What, exactly, were you dreaming about that was distressing enough that I could hear you screaming from my room?"

Kyra deliberately pauses as though confused even as she bristles at his rude and personal question. "I don't...hmm. I don't really remember. I was just...scared of something."

This is a bald-faced lie, of course, but there is no way in hell she's going to tell anybody - much less this man - what her dreams consist of. That would involve the kind of heart-to-heart talks people only ever have with close friends or relatives or possibly significant others - and Law does not qualify in any of those categories. Kyra has no friends, and though her mother was still alive when she was cast from her home island as a child she is probably dead by now. There is no one in the world with whom Kyra would feel comfortable having a personal conversation.

Tattooed fingers close on her shoulder, jolting the witch into movement as she tries unsuccessfully to pull away.

"If you want to stay on my good side, Miss Kyra, I would recommend that you _stop_ lying to me. You can't lie worth shit, so the continued dishonesty leads me to believe that you think I am stupid. I don't appreciate being constantly taken for a fool." If Kyra thought Law sounded irritable before, that is nothing compared to his tone now.

"Then stop asking me personal questions!" She throws up a shield, forcing the fingers to release her and pushing the pirate away at the same time. At the moment she doesn't care how much the man dislikes being lied to; she is still annoyed with him for getting her set up to be turned into a toddler yesterday, she just had a fucking flashback masquerading as a nightmare, and his little interrogation is pissing her off. Her past, her problems, the content of her dreams - none of that is any of Law's business unless she chooses to make it so, dammit!

Fuming now, the last of the fear left from her dream dissipating as the sunlight in her room slowly grows stronger, the mage stomps over to her satchel of clothing and yanks out a fresh outfit. Without another word to her captain - who stands where her shield pushed him and watches her every move through the chunks of ice he claims as eyes - Kyra marches into her private bathroom and slams the door, putting up a strong magical barrier around it so she can guarantee her privacy. As..._touchy_ as the man seems to be, she wouldn't be all that surprised to learn that her captain is actually some kind of closet pervert. Therefore, being the only woman on this sub makes her his most likely target; so unless Kyra finds out that Law is actually a homosexual or in some kind of weird, sick relationship with the bear, every precaution is going to be taken to keep him at arm's length whenever possible.

When she walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, freshly cleaned and dressed with her damp hair hanging loose to dry, the woman is pleased to see that Law is gone. Her bedroom door has been shut as well, the key still sticking out of the lock. Kyra flops back down on her bed, face buried in a pillow and hands fisted in the sheets. What a wonderful start to the day this has been; a nightmare, a fight with her captain, and a roaring headache right behind her eyes already. _Perfect._

Once again the silence of the room is shattered by several knocks upon her door, dragging an irritated groan from the grumpy female.

"What?" she barks, not caring in the slightest if Law disapproves of her tone.

"...Um...Kyra? Are you going to...make breakfast again today?" Shit, it's the bear this time; Kyra's long-suppressed inner child curls up in a ball of shame for speaking so harshly to the giant walking teddy standing out in the hallway. Dragging herself from the bed, she opens her door and moodily follows Bepo into the galley. Law is already there, fully dressed but for his boots, sipping coffee with his feet propped on the edge of the table as he talks to two men sitting with him.

"...said they're going to show it from a couple of screens they're going to set up. Bet it draws a hell of a crowd," a man wearing a hat with the word 'Penguin' stamped across it is saying.

"Are we going to watch, Captain?" his companion asks, sporting a rather poofy green hat with a pink bill. The two look rather familiar; perhaps they were with their captain the day he bid on her in that auction house. Kyra tunes out Law's reply, trying to ignore the fact that Bepo is following her around the galley as she gathers the ingredients for breakfast. Cinnamon toast might help her still-volatile temper...

Once the toast is in the oven with a timer set and the excess supplies are put away, Kyra leans against the counter next to the oven, crosses her arms over her chest, and stares at the floor as though fascinated. In truth, she has felt Law's eyes on her from the moment she entered the room; staring at the floor is simply preferable to meeting his gaze. Plus she's pretty sure being ignored will irritate him, but that's just a bonus.

Booted feet attached to orange legs enter her line of vision. Kyra looks up at Bepo with a glare; didn't they have a little conversation about personal space just yesterday?

"What?"

The bear fidgets slightly, clicking his claws together with small _snicks. "_Did you have a nightmare earlier? I heard someone scream. It woke me up."

Kyra can practically _feel_ Law's gaze intensify. She ignores him, lowering her head so that her eyes are back on the floor and dismissing Bepo with a gesture. "Leave me alone."

Bepo quickly retreats to the table, perhaps remembering what happened when he angered her yesterday. Kyra ignores the occupants of the room and waits for her breakfast to be complete, mentally listing all the ways she can think of to get away from Law for the day. She's not going to give him the chance to embarrass her again like he did with that pink haired bitch. She still needs to retrieve the clothes and money she removed from her former house, which means a trip to the lawless district and time off this sub. A small smile plays upon her lips at the thought.

The oven timer chimes beside her, signaling that the four cookie sheets of toast are ready. She pulls them out of the oven and sends plates flying for the table, using a spatula to move the food from the cookie sheets to a large platter. Turning with platter in hand, she pauses upon seeing the stunned looks being sent her way by the two men in the weird hats.

"What?" Kyra grumbles irritably as she marches over and sets the platter down in the middle of the table. The magician then moves around the table to the empty place on Law's right, which is where she decides to sit. She'd prefer the seat one chair further from the doctor, but the bear took it; she wonders for a moment if he did that on purpose before discarding that idea. Bepo is already borderline terrified of her; he wouldn't purposely risk pissing her off.

Penguin Hat gapes at her as though unable to believe that she even has to ask. "You - you just made the plate _float! _Across the room!"

"No shit." Kyra helps herself to a rather large stack of toast, biting into a piece somewhat more ferociously than neccessary.

"What do you mean 'no shit'?" Poofy Hat demands, holding up his plate as though offering evidence of her deed. "How the hell did you do that?"

His question is ignored as the piece of bitten toast is gnawed upon again. Kyra pauses with her mouth full and waves a hand towards the coffee pot, which soars gracefully over and sets itself to the right of her plate so that it rests between herself and Law. Another flick of the wrist brinks a mug, which the girl soon fills with java from the pot and gulps down. Law is busy helping himself to his own modest pile of toast, while Bepo seems to be sulking at the lack of meat.

"You two have names?" she asks casually, holding her hot coffee in both hands and inhaling deeply.

"Sachi."

"Penguin."

This last catches Kyra's attention; she sets her coffee down and fixes her gaze on the speaker, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Your name is _Penguin?"_

The man nods in the affirmative. "Thanks for breakfast. Are you the new crew member Captain told us about?"

Kyra shoots an inquiring glance at said captain, who continues eating with a little grin on his face. "What did he tell you?"

"Captain says you were the one that blew up all those auction house guards the day we were there." Penguin shudders, his face taking on a faintly green complexion for a moment. "I got somebody's guts spewed all over my hat. Do you know how _hard_ it is to get blood out of this hat? Anyway, Captain says you killed something like a hundred Marines before running off, and that when he met up with you again you killed some other Marine in front of him. He said that's why you're joining the crew, 'cause the Navy and World Government and all think you're _already_ a member."

"He said you threatened to kill us if we tried to come on to you," Sachi interrupts, looking at her rather intensely from across the table and beneath the pink bill of his cap. "Was that true?"

The mage eyes the man warily, her magic welling up in preparation should it be needed. "Yeah."

Sachi seems to deflate, reminding Kyra of a balloon losing all of its air. _"Man._ We finally get a hottie on board and she shoots us all down right out of the box. That's so unfair."

Kyra, who has again picked up her cup and taken a sip, inhales wrong at his words and begins coughing harshly. _Hottie?_ Did that guy just call her...?

A strong hand slaps her firmly in between her shoulder blades, quickly helping to bring her coughing to a halt. Eyes watering slightly, she casts a glance at the smugly chipper face of Law, still trying to process Sachi's words and wondering at the same time just what the hell is so goddam funny that the pirate captains' eyes are practically roaring with laughter.

"Slow down, Miss Kyra," is all the captain says, going back to his own meal once he's satisfied the sorceress isn't going to choke to death. "There's no rush."

"Are you going to come with us?"

Kyra directs her attention back to Penguin, silently wondering why in the world any mother would name her child that. "Come where?"

It is Law who answers her, bringing her reluctant eyes back to him. "We'll be going back onshore to watch the execution of Firefist Ace tomorrow. The Navy is going to broadcast it live via Den Den Mushi. You're coming."

She glares broodingly into her coffee, wondering if there's any way to circumvent that little order. She has no desire to watch the scum running the world murder some pirate just to piss off some other pirate. This whole execution is just a giant excuse to give the Navy yet another chance to off Whitebeard, whatever the official justifications may be. If Kyra were a normal civilian she'd be wondering if the higher-ups have bothered to consider how many grunts are going to get killed because of their decision. Since she _isn't_ a civilian, and has a pretty good idea of how the minds behind the Navy command work, she knows that such senseless death will merely be brushed off as 'heroic sacrifice to a just cause'. More like sheep blindly following their shepherds to slaughter.

Aside from which, Kyra finds it rather pathetic that the entire Navy is apparently needed to kill one man, even if he _is_ the legendary Whitebeard.

Wolfing down the last of her toast, Kyra banishes the plate to the sink with a wave before draining her mug of coffee and repeating the gesture. She stands, edging around the unhappy bear even as Law also gets to his feet.

"Don't run off just yet, Miss Kyra. Someone else can clean up; I want you in the infirmary for right now."

_Joy._

The magical menace grudgingly follows the diabolical doctor to his domain, unable to stop from cringing when he shuts the door of the room behind her. The medical, sterile air of the place presses upon her heavily. Law motions for her to sit on one of the terrifically uncomfortable beds, which she reluctantly does.

"I want to perform a physical. Take off your shirt."

Kyra gapes at him, sure that she's heard him wrong. "Excuse me?"

"Your shirt. Take it off", he repeats with his back to her, rummaging around in a drawer. "I'm assuming you're wearing one of the brassieres I provided?"

Okay, maybe she _didn't_ hear that wrong the first time. "I don't need a physical. The magic in my body acts like a natural check against diseases. I've never been sick before a day in my life. This is pointless."

Law hooks a stethoscope around his neck before turning to her, grinning slightly in apparent amusement with a syringe in one hand. "There's no need to be embarrassed, Miss Kyra. If you'll remember, I've already seen you completely topless."

Kyra barely registers his words; her entire world has momentarily shrunk down to the needle in the surgeon's hand. For a horrifying second, she is far away from Law's ship; bound to a cold metal table, screaming for someone to help her, screaming as needle after needle pierces her flesh and syringe after syringe is emptied into her bloodstream. She's helpless, she wants to die, why can't she just die so the pain will go away?

"...need to take deep breaths, Miss Kyra. Everything is fine. I have you; you need to calm down and match your breathing to mine, alright? Deep breaths...everything is going to be fine...you're safe with me..."

The trembling sorceress gradually becomes aware that someone has wrapped their arms gently around her torso. A strong chest is pressed firmly against her quivering back, taking deep, slow breaths in contrast to the ragged gasps of air Kyra is sucking in. A voice is speaking low and calm in her ear; she strains to figure out what it is saying.

"Just calm down and come back to yourself, Miss Kyra. Can you feel the way I'm breathing? I want you to breathe as I do. Do you know where you are? You are safe...you are on my submarine, in my infirmary, and no one is going to hurt you here. Come back from wherever it is you've gone; come back to my ship. Match your breathing with mine...that's it...good. Slow, deep breaths..."

"...No needles," she gasps out; that's important for some reason, she needs to tell the voice now before it disappears. "No needles. No needles."

"It's only a flu vaccination, Miss Kyra. Every member of the crew is required -"

"NO!" the panicking girl shouts, throwing out a shield to protect herself and the gentle arms from the voice. "NO NEEDLES! NO MORE NEEDLES! THEY HURT, IT BURNS, I JUST WANT TO DIE! JUST KILL ME, PLEASE, NO MORE NEEDLES!"

The arms around her tighten slightly; she wishes she could bury her face in the chest pressed against her back and hide from the voice.

"Alright, Miss Kyra. No needles, then. Just calm down...match your breathing with mine again...that's it, good girl...you're doing fine now...everything is going to be alright..."

Kyra presses her shivering form deeper into the comforting frame behind her and wills the voice's words to be correct, cold tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Law sits at his desk, flipping through the pages of a medical journal from several years ago. Books litter the floor around the desk; he has been searching for over an hour. Miss Kyra has gone off to Saboady to collect some personal items, accompanied by Bepo. The surgeon is determined to find what he is looking for before the woman and her fluffy bodyguard return.<p>

Ah. There it is...

**_Trypanophobia._**

_Trypanophobia is the extreme fear of medical procedures involving injections or hypodermic needles. It is occassionally referred to as aichmophobia, belonephobia, or enetophobia, names that are technically incorrect because they simply denote a fear of "pin/needles" and do not refer to the medical aspect of trypanophobia._

_Trypanophobia is a term that is rarely used among medical professionals. In the World Government Library of Medicine's medical journal articles, the term trypanophobia cannot be found, although the library contains several journal articles referencing needle phobia. The name that is in common usage is simply needle phobia._

_Although trypanophobia is defined simply as an extreme fear of medically related shots/injections, it appears in several varieties..._

Law skims the article, looking for the specific variety that best suits Miss Kyra's earlier panic attack in his infirmary. He wants to know as much about this phobia as possible; perhaps through it he can learn more about his mysterious magician.

He knows that he's found his answer as soon as he reads it:

_**Associative** _

_Associative trypanophobia is the second most common type, affecting thirty percent of needle phobics. This type of trypanophobia is the classic specific phobia in with a traumatic event such as an extremely painful medical procedure, or witnessing a family member or friend undergo such, causes the patient to associate all procedures involving needles with the original negative experience._

_This form of trypanophobia causes symptoms that are primarily psychological in nature, such as extreme unexplained anxiety, insomnia, preoccupation with the coming procedure and panic attacks._

_Treatments that are effective for this form of trypanophobia include cognitive therapy, hypnosis, and/or the administration_ _of anti-anxiety medications._

Bingo.

Anxiety: Miss Kyra had drooped like a wilting flower when Law ordered her to the infirmary after breakfast and dragged her feet like a child all the way there. That would also cover the preoccupation with the coming procedure; it had been crystal clear that the girl was not been looking forward to whatever her captain had planned for her in that room.

Insomnia. Law's grey eyes narrow at this point; had Miss Kyra not woken up in the dawn hours screaming? He isn't a psychologist, but he knows enough about the field to know that extreme nightmares can be a cause of insomnia. The dreamer simply refuses to sleep for fear of what horrors await them in their subconscious.

Panic attacks. Well, that one is definitely spot on. Miss Kyra had gone white as a sheet when she saw that syringe in Law's hand He doubts she is aware of this, but her blue eyes had momentarily gone pitch black - everything from her iris to her sclera - and the syringe in question had jerked from Law's hands to explode in a shower of glass. The girl began hyperventilating, trembling like a leaf all the while. Law quickly realized what was happening and sought to rectify the problem. He had gone around behind Miss Kyra and wrapped his arms gently around her upper body, careful not to be forceful in the hopes that her magic would not attack him to protect her. The Dark Doctor had held his patient to his chest and talked calmly for half an hour before she gave any kind of response to his words. For a while there he had worried that she would simply pass out from inadequate air supply. It had taken another half hour after that to get her breathing and her heart rate completely back to normal, wrapped up with her in what he is fairly sure was a protective bubble of her powers. She had left with Bepo shortly after, fleeing the sub as if the hounds of hell dogged her every footstep.

Law closes his book and leans back in his chair, hands cradling the back of his head. So Miss Kyra has an extreme phobia of medical needles due to a past traumatic event. She had seen him approaching her with a syringe and panicked. She had been afraid of entering the infirmary because of past damage to her psyche and will likely react the same way in the future. She might very well be suffering recurring nightmares of whatever event sparked the phobia in the first place. He wonders if that might be why she screwed with the lock on her door so that his key no longer works and makes a mental note to talk to one of his mechanics sometime soon.

The girl is simply bursting with interesting surprises.

Frowning in thought, Law closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. If he tries hard enough, he can almost still smell Miss Kyra's personal scent.

It is a new experience for the pirate, holding a woman close like that for such an extended period of time. Sure, he's had his fair share of women; he is a good looking man who can make a person eat out of the palm of his hand with the right tone of voice. But sex is not the same thing; after sex he rises, dresses, pays and leaves. He does not cuddle, which is the closest word he can get to what he did today with Miss Kyra. He had held the woman in his arms, her back against his chest and his hands on either of her hips for the better part of an hour; what else was that if not cuddling?

She smells like iron and lavender and woman, a strange yet pleasant combination.

The sound of the door across the hall opening and closing draws Law out of his thoughts. Seconds later there is a soft knock upon his own cabin before it also opens, Bepo's furry white head peeking into the room.

"Come in, Bepo."

The bear does so, shutting the door behind him. Doctor and bear regard each other silently for a minute before Law sighs, standing from his desk chair and approaching his first mate. "What's wrong, Bepo?"

"You should know that Kyra smells wrong, Captain," Bepo promptly blurts out. Brow furrowing, Law moves to sit on his bed and indicates that Bepo should take the vacated chair. The pirate has a feeling this is going to take a few minutes.

"What do you mean she 'smells wrong'?" he asks calmly.

"Kyra smells sad and scared and angry, Captain. Well, she always smells sad, even at the auction house or when you brought her back here the other day; but she didn't used to smell angry. She didn't smell like that yesterday until you brought her back after she got turned into a cub. But today it smells worse, and she's been like that since before breakfast. She smells salty, like she's been crying, and there's something off about her personal scent. She smells like...like..." Bepo flounders for a moment, obviously trying to put his thoughts into words his captain will understand. "Fish."

One thin black eyebrow slowly rises up Law's forehead. "Miss Kyra smells of fish?"

"Yes, Captain. Like fish right before you eat them."

This does nothing to clear the man's confusion. He has not noticed anything like fish in Miss Kyra's scent, and considering how long he had his nose buried in her hair earlier he's fairly certain he wouldn't have missed that. "You're saying that Miss Kyra smells like dead fish?"

The furry head shakes emphatically back and forth. "No, Captain. She smells like fish _before_ you eat them, not after. Like she's cornered with nowhere to go."

Ah. So Bepo is referring to how a live fish smells just before being consumed by a hungry bear in nature. That explains a great deal. "I see."

"That's not good, Captain. Sometimes fish do stupid thing right before you eat them, because of how scared they are. Is Kyra going to do something stupid? I don't understand why she's so afraid. Is it me?" The bear hangs his head suddenly, thoroughly miserable at the thought that he might be the cause of the problem. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, Bepo. I'm sure it's not because of you. I'll keep an eye on Miss Kyra and you can help me make sure she doesn't do anything...stupid. But _don't_ crowd her," he warns sternly, pinning his first mate in place with a look. "I'd say Miss Kyra is more like a wounded predator than easy food, and she's liable to strike out at you if you push too hard. Don't forget that she can be dangerous when she wants to be, Bepo."

"Yes, Captain."

"Good. You can go."

Bepo ambles out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Law stretches out on his bed, hands folded on his stomach and a harsh frown tugging at his lips. So Miss Kyra is sad and afraid, is she? The anger he expects: she's been forced to join a pirate crew by circumstances beyond her control and their little stroll yesterday - amusing as it was for him - had pissed her off. But what, exactly, is the girl so afraid of? Law would chalk it up to the fiasco earlier, but Bepo had said she smelled like that since before breakfast. What else does this newest crewmate fear?

And why does she constantly smell of tears?

The Heart Pirate captain drifts off as he ponders these questions, napping lightly in the solitude of his chamber.

He is jolted from his slumber several hours later by the sound of shattering pottery, a crash, and shouts. Bounding off his bed, Law snatches up his nodachi and swiftly exits the room, long strides carrying him quickly towards the noise. He does not come to a stop until he reaches the entrance to the galley, and then only because he is surprised by what he sees.

Miss Kyra is standing by the oven, cocooned in a protective bubble and standing over the ship's teapot. Pieces of a mug surround her feet, along with murky brown water and a soggy tea bag. She is fairly pressing herself against the oven, her hands wrapped so tightly around the bar used to swing open the door that her knuckles are stark white. A look of absolute fury paints her face red at the cheeks, a rage beyond anything Law has seen from her so far in their rather short acquaintance.

Neil, the burly and somewhat crude ship's cook, is hiding behind the overturned dinner table, a lump the size of an egg sprouting from his forehead even as blood runs from his clearly broken nose. His beanie, which he is rarely seen without, is on the floor behind him. And in between the two is Bepo, crouching in a classic kung fu pose with his back to Miss Kyra and as close to her as the shield will allow, claws at the ready and his lethally sharp teeth bared in a snarl.

"Captain!" the cook yells, spotting Law lingering in the doorway. "Captain, watch it, Sachi brought another one of his whores on board and she's a freak! Don't get too close to her! And she brainwashed Bepo!"

Law does not miss the way his female crewmate flinches at the word 'freak'. Pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and pointer finger, the pirate captain lets out an irritated sigh. Neil is an excellent cook, and his bloodlust is a match for just about anyone else's on this sub, but his brainpower leaves much to be desired.

"Bepo." The snarling bear turns his head to look at his captain, not relaxing his pose in the slightest. "Tell me what happened, please."

"Kyra was just making some tea, Captain. Neil came in and said bad things to her, and then he touched her and tried to kiss her but she threw him away. The scared smell is worse, Captain, and the angry smell."

"Neil." Law's voice is deceptively mild. "Did you lay hands on your crewmate after I specifically ordered you all _not_ to mess with her?"

The color slowly drains from Neil's face as he cautiously peeks over the table in Miss Kyra's direction. The sorceress tenses at his gaze, and Bepo - quiet, shy, fluffy Bepo who won't say boo to a goose unless ordered to do so by Law - lets out a hair-raising growl of warning.

"B-b-but..._ she's_ the newbie?" Neil gasps, his jaw hanging open in surprised shock. "I didn't know, Captain, I swear! I thought she was with Sachi, you know he brings women on board all the time -"

"Enough." One word and Neil immediately stops talking, looking terrified. "Go wait for me in the infirmary. I'll be there shortly to reset your nose."

The cook snatches up his fallen hat and bolts past Law without a word. Bepo stays tensed in the same spot until the man's back is no longer in sight. Turning, the bear directs his version of a concerned look at the woman he has just protected.

"He's gone now. Are you okay?"

Miss Kyra mutely nods her head, letting her sheild disappear and waving her hand sharply through the air. The overturned table rights itself; the chairs displaced by its former violent repositioning are returned where they belong. The shattered mug mends itself and lands in the sink, while the teapot flies back to sit on the stove. Miss Kyra then grabs a dish towel from the nearby counter, squats down, and begins furiously mopping up her spilled tea, tossing the teabag in the direction of the galley's trashcan. Law slowly walks over and crouches down near her, eyes attempting to penetrate the curtain of hair hanging in front of her face.

"Where did he touch you?" he asks, his voice low but serious so that she will understand that he wants an answer.

"He came in and started flirting with me," Miss Kyra replies, refusing to raise her head and continuing to push her towel furiously across the floor. "He got pissy when I ignored him, said Sachi ought to pick his women better and asked me how the sex was. I kept ignoring him, so he came over here when I was pouring myself a cup of tea and pressed up against my ass. Grabbed me by the hips and turned me around, tried to kiss me. I flung him across the room. Bepo knew who he was, so I figured he was one of yours and that you wouldn't appreciate it if I killed him."

At this she finally looks up, and Law is faintly surprised that her eyes are still blue rather than that ominous black from earlier. "One chance is all I'm giving. If he does that again I'll kill him, your opinion be damned."

"Understood. I'll talk to him; he won't bother you again. You can expect an apology for his behavior first thing in the morning."

"Fuck his apology."

Law does not reply to this last retort. He stands up, turns and, after gesturing to Bepo to stay with Miss Kyra, stalks from the room.

He has a cook to discipline.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>It is very late, and Trafalgar Law is <em>very<em> annoyed.

He stalks the halls of his submarine, hands stuffed in his pockets and an irritable scowl on his face. He has just left the crew's quarters after sending Penguin and Sachi out earlier to collect everyone, having once again given strict orders that none of them is to attempt to bed Miss Kyra unless she expresses a desire to share herself with them first. Pirates they all may be, killers and plunderers and all around ne'er-do-wells, but Law absolutely _will not_ tolerate rape. Aside from Bepo - who is just too damn shy around females of any species for something like that - none of his men are animals, and if they ever cross that line, their captain will not hesitate to kill them. Neil is lucky he's such an amazing cook, or he would have received a much harsher punishment than the broken nose from the Heart Pirates' resident witch, courtesy of the captain himself.

Actually, Neil is really rather fortunate that Bepo is so unfailingly loyal to Law, or he might well have found himself getting mauled by a pissed-off polar bear. The surgeon is still somewhat in awe of the notion that his first mate was very clearly protecting Miss Kyra in the kitchen earlier. The girl might have been the one to throw the cook across the room into a wall, but Bepo looked ready to tear the man limb from limb and then possibly eat the pieces. He had actually bared his teeth at a crewmate. In all the years the shy bear has served as Law's subordinate, not once has he ever threatened a crew member unless doing so under his captain's orders. Apparently the woman's presence has awakened some kind of protective instinct in Bepo, which Law finds both fascinating and troubling in equal degrees. Bepo has never before expressed any indication of giving a damn for anyone aside from his captain and himself; what is it about Miss Kyra that has made the walking teddy bear so protective after only a couple of days in her company?

She's definitely a strange one, Miss Kyra. Between her extraordinary powers; this phobia of needles; and her newfound ability to turn Bepo into her own personal guard bear, the girl has done more than her share to liven things up for the Surgeon of Death.

Instead of bringing the expected grin to thin lips, thinking about this and the unprecedented experience of having to give his crew the same order _twice_ simply worsens Law's mood. The fact that the girl is not in her room when he checks does not help; the captain broods about the day he's just gone through even as he returns to his own chambers and showers, hoping the hot water will relax the tense muscles in his back and clear his mind somewhat at the same time. Covering his body only with a pair of comfortable sleeping pants and toweling his hair so that it sticks up in all directions, the sadistic surgeon ambles off for the galley, thinking some coffee might settle him for sleep.

The room is dark when he enters, leading him to believe it is empty. Flicking on the lights, Law is about to head for the cupboards to unearth his coffee grounds when he stops dead, surprised to see Miss Kyra slumped over the table. He can hear her breathing; the girl is fast asleep. A half empty bottle of some amber liquid and a very small glass sit before her.

Law can feel a grin spread over his face. Silly, sad little girl always drinking alone. Foolish little girl falling asleep out in the open, no locked door to protect her from a ship full of men.

He eases towards her, ideas and scenarios dancing within his mind. His nodachi is in his room, but a knife from in here would work just as well. There's a scalpel hidden on the small lip under the table where the leg meets the top to the right of where he sits. So many options are open to him with such a blade. He can remove her heart from her chest and hold it in the palm of his hand. It won't have to hurt; he can use his Devil Fruit abilities, she won't feel a thing. Her hair looks so soft and she should still smell of lavender, like she did in the infirmary this morning. If his fingers caress her cheek, she will not flinch from him as she does while awake. If he cuts her with that hidden scalpel, he can watch as her strange powers do their work; he so wants to see them in action. Should he decide to sample a taste of her, he is confident that he can do so without waking her. Miss Kyra is asleep; vulnerable; completely at his mercy.

Or... Law can wake the witch over whom he is hovering, and have some fun with her that way. She's been drinking, after all; alcohol has been known to loosen the tongue. He can ask her some of the questions that buzz like insects within his brain. He can tease her into a drunken, frothing frenzy. Maybe Miss Kyra will even agree to let him see her healing up close, if he asks her the right way.

And this way, she will still be alive and here tomorrow; Law will not be deprived of the entertainment she is so amply providing.

Tattooed fingers weave gently into the curly raven locks.

The girl is awake in half a second, bolting upright in her seat before throwing herself to the side in a dive to the floor. Her hair is subsequently yanked from Law's loose grasp as she hurtles to the nearest corner, shield popping into existence and blue eyes too wide in her face. The Surgeon of Death watches quietly, waiting for his magician to wake up enough to register his presence. It will be obvious when this happens; he just has to wait for the obscenities to start flying.

"What th' fuck're you doin'?" Ah, there she goes. Delightfully slurred, too. Excellent.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, Miss Kyra?" Law picks up the liquor bottle to emphasize his point, watching as her cheeks flush red in either anger or embarrassment. "Haven't I told you before that drinking alone is a bad idea?"

She doesn't answer, merely pulls her knees to her chest and hides her face in them, arms wrapped around her ankles as her protective barrier dies.

"Go 'way," she mutters, just loud enough for the doctor to hear.

"I don't think so," is his reply, even as he turns and heads over to the particular cupboard in which the crew keeps their drinking glasses. Law pulls one out and goes back to the table, plopping down in his seat and propping his feet up. "I think I'll join you. Come sit with me, Miss Kyra."

The girl does as he orders rather reluctantly, stumbling to her feet and falling back into her chair with a complete lack of coordination. Her head is immediately smacked down onto the table, her arms thrown over it as though she is protecting herself. A hiccup rocks her slumped body comically, and the captain has to work to keep from laughing at how utterly pathetic the woman looks right now.

"What d'ya want, ashhole?" The words are almost indecipherable, jumbled by both Miss Kyra's level of inebriation and the fact that she's speaking into the table. "Jush wanna sit n'drink. Lemme alone."

Law has to wonder just what the hell his magician has been drinking. How potent is the stuff in the bottle, to have her three sheets to the wind after just half of it has been consumed? Bringing it under his nose, he gives the liquor a sniff and nearly coughs at the strength of the smell.

"Where did you get this, Miss Kyra?"

"Shtole it. Fucker shold me, so I fed 'em to a Shea King. S'not like he needs tha shit anymore, right?" One of her hands moves from her hair to search the table in front of her, obviously seeking the bottle Law still holds. When she is unable to find it, Miss Kyra raises her head and gazes blearily ahead. "Shit."

She folds her arms on the table and rests her chin atop them, humming lightly to herself. Before he can place the tune, her head comes up a little. "You gonna drink that or jush sit there n'hold it? I wan some more."

Law chuckles, filling his tiny glass before putting the bottle down in front of Miss Kyra again. "Bottoms up then, Miss Kyra."

She makes a halfhearted salute with her own refilled glass towards him before knocking it back like an old pro. Law follows her example - which turns out to be an _exceptionally_ stupid idea. What _is_ this stuff? Pushing his glass away and turning his attention back to his sloshed crewmate, the surgeon studies the girl's drooping eyelids, the light grey bags that vaguely resemble his own. Why is Miss Kyra not in bed?

"You should go to sleep soon," Law suggests gently, watching as she drinks from her cup yet again. She chokes, setting the container down and coughing for a moment. Her head shakes furiously back and forth, her balled up fists smacking her temples again and again. Law immediately reaches out and grabs her wrists, pulling hard to keep her from continuing. He opens his mouth to ask her what in the hell she's doing when she bursts into speech.

"I don' wanna shleep. Gotta stay awake 'til I'm done wif tha liquor. Can't go ta shleep 'til then. Gotta drown out tha nightmares. Drown 'em. No shleepin'."

Ah. So that's why she's sitting here alone, so late at night, drinking some of the strongest liquor the pirate captain has ever come across. His brain reminds him that victims of trypanophobia suffer from insomnia; perhaps this is one way the woman forces her body to stay awake some nights. He wonders briefly what kind of shape her liver is in if imbibing in obscene amounts of alcohol is a regular occurence for her.

"I don't wanna go wif you tomorrow," Miss Kyra suddenly blurts out, tugging sluggishly at her captive limbs. "Don' wanna go watch some guy die for nothin'."

"You are a pirate now, Miss Kyra," he replies calmly, eyes seeking out hers to no avail as those blue orbs dart randomly around the room. "You will have to accustom yourself to watching others die."

The girl bursts out laughing, the sound as far from mirthful as the screams of the dying. "Accushtom myself? Fuck you, captain ashhole. Been killin' people since I was six. I killed my own father, so don't patriz...part... don't talk down to me."

Law has no idea what the hell to say in response to that. What do you say, when a slip of a girl reveals herself to be a patricide? Groping to understand this girl, this puzzle, he asks, "You killed your father?"

"Yeah. Liked to shlap my mother 'round. Tried ta kill 'er. I schreamed n'grabbed 'im by the arm; his head blew up." She fists her captive hands and then throws her fingers wide. _"Pop._ Like a bubble. Got brains and blood and bone all over me."

The pirate is still digesting this little tidbit when the sorceress decides to throw another one at him. "Damn bear wanted to know what I dream about. Like he needs to know 'bout my fuckin' nightmares. Fuzzy bashtard doesn't wanna know that shit. Not my nightmares, nuh-uh."

"Nightmares about needles?" Law is careful to keep his voice soft and gentle, a contrast to the iron hold he still has on her wrists. He can feel it when the woman trembles; feel it when her delicate skin jumps and twitches beneath his fingers.

"Needles," Miss Kyra whispers shakily, eyes staring off at something only she can see. "Needles, an' burning in my veins, an' _him._ He's_ always_ there; he won't get outta my head."

She suddenly turns to look straight at him, a rather manic glint in her gaze. "D'ya know what ammonia tashtes like?"

Law feels a strange cold wash over him.

"Shit. That's what it tashtes like. Ushed to drink it; they'd shtrap me down n'pour it down my throat. Mix up a batch o'chemicals n'leave it in the room wif me. Fumes'd make me puke blood from breathin' 'em in." The girl is saying all of this as though reading facts out of a book, as though it happened in a fairy tale and not in her actual life. If not for the sheen in her eyes and the way her hands are twitching in his grasp, Law might think she is lying.

"Were you... were you a prisoner somewhere, Miss Kyra?" he asks, moving his grip to that he can hold her fingers in his and feel the way they are spasming. Not necessarily to calm her; he is fascinated by her unguarded reactions to the topic they have broached, especially since she brought it up in the first place.

"Prisoner...experiment...whatever. Jush a fuckin' lab rat, anyway...fucking monster, nobody's gonna help a monster, nobody..." Her voice trails off into nothing, glassy eyes staring into space again as her mind wanders elsewhere.

They sit in silence for several minutes, the Dark Doctor examining his sorceress's face until she lowers her head. She rests it against the table, her face turned away from him and her hands limp in his grip. Law slowly lets her go; her arms lie where they fall, as though she doesn't have the energy to move them anymore. The girl whispers something, and Law leans in slightly.

"What was that, Miss Kyra?"

"Shouldn't'a bid on me. Shouldn't'a brought me here. Dangeroush... I'm dangeroush. They'll... they'll come lookin' for me... Come n'get me... _He'll_ come..." After a long pause, Miss Kyra's breathing evens out; she has fallen asleep again in mid-sentence.

The Surgeon of Death silently stands and moves to her side. Carefully, not wishing to wake her again tonight, the sadistic killer gathers the thin woman up in his arms so that she is cradled against his bare chest. The walk to her room is short, the door is already open for them, and moments later Miss Kyra is being gently laid upon her bed. She looks deathly pale in the moonlit room; the doctor in him urges Law to check her pulse or her temperature. He does neither of these things; he simply covers her with her bedding and leaves the room, pulling her door closed behind him.

An experiment, she says. A lab rat. _769,_ the dead Marine from the sushi bar had called her. What kind of person would use someone like Miss Kyra for the purpose of experimentation? It must be the World Government, which by extension means the Marines. For what other reason would a seemingly ordinary civilian like Miss Kyra harbor such hatred for the Navy?

Did she really kill her own father?

Law stretches out in the comfort of his own bed, brooding once again. So many questions that pop up because of this girl. When one is answered, it is replaced by a dozen more. Such a thing is by turns intriguing and infuriating for the perpetually curious man. When he wants an answer to something, he gets it; he does not get fifty additional questions and a vague understanding. The surgeon itches to know more, to know everything.

Oh, well. There's no hurry, after all. Miss Kyra is stuck with Law now, and with her powers he doubts the woman is going to get killed anytime soon. He has plenty of time to study her, to pick apart the knotted puzzle that is his little murder mystery until he knows every little detail about every little part of her.

He has all the time in the world.

* * *

><p>"I want waffles, lady!"<p>

"Hey, girl, make some sausage while you're at it!"

"Oi, Hot Stuff, is the coffee done yet?"

Kyra slams both hands down upon the counter in fury and spins around to glare murderously at the gaggle of men sitting around the table sporting ridiculously diverse headwear, all of them talking at once in an unintelligible babble of noise.

_**"SHUT UP!"**_

Silence reigns supreme. She takes this opportunity to make a few things clear to them.

"I'm not your fucking brute of a chef. I'm making a shitload of toast, some bacon, scrambled eggs, and some coffee. I get half my toast and half the eggs 'cause I'm making it and if you fuckers eat it all I'll kill you. You want something else, go find that asshole with the beanie. And my name is Kyra; if _anyone_ calls me Hot Stuff _ever again,_ I will take that person and show you all why your crazy bastard of a captain wanted me on this crew so bad. Got it?"

Not a peep in response.

"Good."

On that note, the toaster ejects its contents, using the last of the five loaves Kyra has decimated. Grabbing the hot bread and tossing it onto a plate stacked high, the grumpy mage snags the giant platter of bacon and decides to just levitate the mixing bowl of scrambled eggs. Somehow, everything makes it to the table without mishap just as Law slouches through the door, Bepo right behind him.

"Was that you I heard threatening my men just now, Miss Kyra?" the captain questions with one of those annoying little smirks. The woman has decided that there should be names for his smirks, as all of them are just slightly different from each other. This one is his 'your-anger-is-terribly-amusing-my-dear' smirk. Smug bastard.

"Yeah, and?" Shuffling back towards the coffee, she summons a mug into her hands and fills it. She had been hoping to be able to scarf down breakfast and then make a run for it, but with Law now in the room that's probably not going to happen. Gods know the man loves to torment her.

"Nothing. I just object to being called crazy."

Kyra turns and gives him a look. "I call it like I see it, Law."

"How's the hangover this morning, Miss Kyra?"

The sorceress fights down a blush of embarrassment, lowering her eyes to scowl at the floor. "I don't get hangovers. All the alcohol gets burned off once I'm asleep."

She has told Law about her father's death. She has told him about some of the experiments she endured. She has hummed one of her mother's beloved lullabies in Law's hearing, and she has mentioned _him._

She's going to drown herself at the first opportunity.

"And did you sleep well?"

Kyra doesn't answer his question, simply leans back against the counter and raises her hand in preparation to summon some food to her. He's doing that on purpose, isn't he, using that tone in his voice as though speaking to some bimbo he's trying to seduce? Surely he doesn't need to do that. Isn't it bad enough that Law carried her to her room last night after she passed out? Isn't it sufficiently humiliating that Kyra told the man about the experiments? Screw drowning, it takes too long; maybe she can manipulate her magic into letting her get hit by a cannon ball or something. Quick and easy, she'll be dead and out of her misery in a heartbeat. 'Til then she will eat over here, keeping some much-needed distance between herself and the infuriating Supernova at the table.

"Come sit down, Miss Kyra. Your food will grow cold."

Damn it, damn it, _damn it all to hell._

All through breakfast, while Kyra eats as fast as possible with her attention seemingly fixed on her plate, she can feel Law's eyes on her. Sure, the rest of the crew is sneaking frequent glances and Bepo occasionally speaks to her from her left, but the captain is going overboard. He watches Kyra like a hawk until the last forkful of scrambled eggs is stuffed into her mouth. When she drains the dregs of her coffee and stands to begin the cleanup process, a tattooed hands shoots out and latches onto her wrist to stop her.

"The men can take care of the mess, Miss Kyra. I want to talk to you in private."

Oh, shit. Kyra hopes for a desperate second that the bear will jump to her defense the way he did last night with the cook. She can handle a grabby idiot, she can deal with a crew full of obnoxiously loud men; the place where she could really use some help is with the captain and his too-perceptive eyes. Sadly, Bepo says nothing, merely sits gnawing on a stray piece of bacon as the rest of the crew stands to begin cleaning up. So it is that Kyra finds herself trudging reluctantly out of the room behind Law, knowing full well that nothing good will come of this.

The mage isn't sure whether to be glad, furious, or extremely uneasy when Law leads her to his bedroom. Glad because at least it isn't the infirmary this time; furious because it's the man's flippin' bedroom, for Roger's sake; or uneasy because... well... it's the man's _bedroom._ The surgeon pulls her over the threshold of the chamber so that he can close the door behind them, waving to indicate Kyra should sit in the desk chair. Perching on the edge of his bed, the Dark Doctor studies her as she squirms beneath his gaze, seriously wishing she had the guts to leave.

"About last night."

Oh, perfect. Of course it's about that. Kami and the gods hate her, after all. "Yeah?"

Law grins at her, obviously aware of just how little Kyra wants to have this conversation. "Relax, Miss Kyra. I just want to ask a few questions. Surely it won't kill you to talk to me."

It might, but she very much doubts he would appreciate her telling him that.

"You expressed a desire to avoid today's execution. Why is that? You don't seem to have a problem killing others."

Kyra shrugs, mildly relieved to be starting out with such a simple question. "I hate the Navy. I don't care about watching them slaughter some guy just to piss off Whitebeard. That's all this is going to be, you know? The whole execution thing is just an excuse to justify starting a war because the higher ups in the Navy and their bosses in the World Government are all scared shitless of the old man. This Firefist guy's just the unlucky scapegoat. I don't have any desire to see him die for their gain."

Here she gives her captain an annoyed look. "And you don't have to make it sound like I'm some blood hungry maniac who slaughters indiscriminately. I hate the fucking Navy; I kill Marines. I don't go around blowing up helpless civilians or butchering pirate crews. If so I probably would have killed you by now."

Horror of horrors, here comes Law's 'you're-so-cute-when-you-threaten-me' smirk. "Noted. And you will still be accompanying us."

She scowls in defeat. "Fine."

"Were you a prisoner of the World Government?"

So much for the simple easy questions. "For six years. I think I was about twelve at the start, eighteen when I escaped."

"Why were you taken by them?"

That is an incredibly stupid thing to ask. Kyra lets her power fill her, feels her hair start to stir as if caught in a breeze and knows that her eyes are completely pitch black. "Why the hell do you think? I'm a fucking monster. They wanted a new toy and I'm practically indestructible. They could do whatever the hell they wanted to me and never have to go looking for a replacement. It's not like they ever had to worry about an uproar if the general public ever somehow found out they were doing dangerous experimentation on a teenager; I'm a freak, nobody was going to give a shit about me."

Law is frowning heavily, almost sneering at her as though disgusted or disappointed. "Don't call yourself that."

Well that came out of nowhere. "Call myself what?"

"Monster. Freak. Don't call yourself that again."

Kyra says nothing, releasing her hold on the magic so that her hair settles and her eyes return to their regular shade of blue. Why shouldn't she call herself those words? They're true, aren't they? She has been both things for her entire life; why shouldn't she answer to such familiar and accurate labels? Hell, even the cook last night had called her a freak; has the surgeon forgotten that already?

Law's frown changes, becomes less of a sneer and more of an uncomfortable expression. It looks as though he is suddenly feeling rather awkward. "And what you said about your father? That was true?"

Her father. Fuck, why did she tell this man about that? Why does she have to get so chatty when she drinks? "Yeah."

"How old were you at the time?"

"Six." A brief hesitation; should she tell him? Oh, what the hell... "He was my first kill."

She can still see it sometimes in her sleep, mixed in with the rest of her nightmares. Her father as he straddles her mother, big hands around a tiny neck. Her mother crying and gasping for breath, her father's shouts - _"Witch!_ _Give ME the spawn of evil for_ _a_ _child, will you?" _- her own screams -_ "Papa, Papa, don't hurt her! Mama! Let her go!" _- interspersed with images of her father's head exploding, flashbacks of the cold examination table, and _his_ face gazing down from above.

_You will never escape. I won't let you._

"Miss Kyra?"

Kyra jolts out of her reverie, nearly toppling the chair in which she sits. Law is watching her through half-lidded eyes, no doubt analyzing her every twitch. She wonders briefly how long she has been lost in thought under those eyes.

"What about your mother?"

_**Excuse** me? _Kyra is instantly tensed, curling into herself rather like a cat just before it springs on unsuspecting prey. "What about her?"

"Did you kill her as well?"

The sorceress has to grab the arms of the chair to keep from launching herself at the man in a fury. She can feel the magic jumping to the surface again to turn her eyes onyx, she can feel herself snarling at Law like an animal; it doesn't matter to her. How _dare_ he ask her that? How dare he insinuate that Kyra would have ever laid a hand on her mother in anger? Kyra's mother was her whole world, she longs to see her again; and this bastard asks if she _killed her?_

"Don't you _ever_ say that again," she growls menacingly, glaring at Law hatefully. "I would never have hurt her. **_Ever."_**

Law says nothing. Kyra takes a deep breath, forcing the magic back. She doesn't kill pirates unless they try to kill her first. This one is just an asshole; he doesn't deserve to die even if he did ask a cruel and personal question just now. Composed once more, Kyra turns her face to the side and stares longingly at the bedroom door.

"Anything else you wanted to ask right now?" she mutters, very much wanting to get out of here and hide in her room for a few hours.

Apparently yes. "How did you escape from them? When you were a prisoner of the Navy and World Government?"

Now the answer to that is something she would rather show the curious pirate before her. The expression sure to grace his features should help to make this conversation less trying. Plus it'll be great payback for that stunt he pulled getting her turned into a kid by the pink haired bitch. "I'll give you a demonstration when we leave to go watch the show. It'll make more sense that way than if I tried to explain it, okay?"

Law stares at her in silence for so long Kyra starts to wonder if he's going to let her leave at all. At last he stands rather abruptly; Kyra lurches to her feet before she can think about what she's doing, instantly uneasy with having someone looming over her.

"That'll be all for now, Miss Kyra. You can go."

She's not going to stick around and wait for him to change his mind. She's out the door and shut into her own room in seconds. Kyra will simply hide in here until it's time to go, and everything will be fine. She'll give Law a scare with her special means of travel, and it will feel great. Everything's going to be fucking aces.

Those words become a repetitive mantra as the angst-ridden woman paces up and down her room, hands alternating from wringing each other to popping her fingers to holding tightly onto her upper arms. Something's wrong today, she can feel it; something is horribly wrong today and she is going to be right in the middle of whatever it is. She tries to tell herself that she is overreacting; the whole world is going to be busy watching this stupid execution, what trouble could possibly go on aside from the upcoming brawl at Marineford?

But even as she attempts to convince herself of this, Kyra knows it's bullshit. Her magic is roiling and coiling inside her, more concentrated and much heavier than it's been in a long time. Alarm bells are blaring in her mind, even if she can't figure out why. Her instincts are screaming at her that something is coming, something is going to happen, and she has to be ready for it.

Thus the uneasy mage passes the time until there comes a sharp knock on her door. She opens it to see the bear standing there.

"Captain said it's time to go."

Kyra breaks out into a light sweat at the words. Trying to shake off her trepidation, she follows Bepo out onto the deck of the sub, where Law waits with the rest of the crew. The captain gives her a grin, showing teeth as he ambles over to her.

"Well, Miss Kyra. What do you have to show me?"

Oh, right. Time for payback.

"You said you wanted to know how I escaped, right? You'll need to hold onto me."

Law immediately closes the distance between them and loops an arm around her waist. Should have known he would take this as an invitation to get fresh. Kyra glares at him briefly; a grip on her arm would suffice just as well. Deciding to ignore him for the moment, she looks to the fluffy first mate and asks, "Do you want to come with us?"

At a nod from his captain, Bepo hesitantly walks over to stand beside her. Kyra reaches up and grabs him by the collar of his orange jumpsuit, feeling a grin threatening to swallow her face. This is going to be awesome revenge. Glancing over at the rest of the crew, the young mage allows her magic to change her eyes and watches as they all flinch back.

"Meet you by the screens," she says.

The next instant black energy envelops Kyra, Law, and Bepo in a large bubble. The dumbstruck crew can only stare as the bubble shrinks smaller and smaller until disappearing with a pop. The three who once stood on the deck of the Heart Pirates submarine are nowhere in sight.

On a different part of the island, in the middle of the large crowd standing in front of three giant screens, a black sphere enlarges itself from thin air until it reaches the size of an average adobe house. Onlookers gape in wonder as the bubble shimmers for a moment before vanishing, revealing a girl who is laughing almost hysterically; a man in a yellow-and-black hoodie who stumbles and falls gracelessly to the ground; and a polar bear in a diver's suit who throws himself down and covers his head with his paws, whimpering all the while.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>"Holy shit..."<p>

Kyra silently agrees with whichever crewmate utters those words as she watches Edward Newgate break the very air around him. Whitebeard has done this once already in the last twenty minutes since arriving on screen at the Navy HQ, resulting in the backlash that created the now-frozen tsunamis on either side of Marineford; but still, _he broke the air_. How often do you see something like that? The sorceress looks down at her own hands, which house a natural magic not obtained by shit-tasting fruit but from some trick of fate at birth. Can _she_ break the air? That's not exactly something she's ever tried before.

So now it has really begun: the war everyone with half a brain should have seen coming as soon as those idiots running the Navy published their intent to kill one of the Whitebeard pirates. Hell, children know that you don't fuck with the Whitebeards; their captain is one scary bastard when it comes to protecting his crew. Even if Firefist Ace truly _is_ the son of the twenty-years-dead Pirate King, the Navy should have left him alone. What's happening now is completely their own damn fault.

She's thinking of going. The men who handed her over to _him_ and the other scientists are at Marineford right now. All three Admirals, one of whom she has briefly met in person; and that gull-hatted bastard Sengoku, who tricked her into going along for the boat ride that put her in Hell. What better chance is Kyra ever going to have to kill them? True, they might die anyway; there are an amazing amount of insanely powerful pirates fighting them right now, hell bent on regaining their captured crewmate. There's a fucking gigantic _ogre_ of all things on the screens right now throwing whole ships around like toys. And of course, there is Whitebeard himself, who aside from shattering reality and siccing his boys on the Navy hasn't even begun to fight yet. Maybe somebody will get lucky and kill the men Kyra wants dead, but that is a huge _maybe._ She wants it to be a _definitely._

Why shouldn't she go? Fuck Law - who has not spoken to her since she dropped his ass here via her favored means of travel. Fuck this crew - they all probably agree with that stupid cook of theirs in that she is a freak anyway. Even the bear - so what if he is cute and fluffy and makes her inner child squeal with glee? This is the perfect opportunity to get revenge on several of the key figures responsible for making her life an excruciating torment for those six long years. If she can just get close enough, she can end their sorry existences with a gesture of the hand or a snap of the finger. And if she can rescue this Firefist guy, help Whitebeard, and give the World Government an extra 'fuck you' in the process by foiling their little plans, why shouldn't she do so? Doesn't Kyra have a right to her vengeance?

Gods, besides that, have any of those fucking bigwigs given the smallest thought to what's going to happen to the world if by some miracle they finally manage to kill Whitebeard? Anarchy. Chaos. Every ambitious piss-ant with a crew behind him is going to go nuts to gain control of all the countless islands currently under Whitebeard's protection. His freakishly loyal and powerful crew will go berserk in their quest for revenge. Civilians, Marines, and pirates alike will be in constant danger. The balance of the world as it is now will be turned on its head if that old man is murdered today. Can't those fools see that? Do they not care?

Oh, wait, of course not. They're the fucking World Government; they don't give a shit about anybody but themselves and their precious nobles.

It won't be too hard for her to get to Marineford. Traveling in that pocket of magic takes no time at all, and she has discovered through practice that such transportation somehow seems to recharge her; almost like the bubble of energy draws still more power out of the very air to fuel itself. She'll pop into place on the island housing Navy HQ and be ready to go at full stength. The only problem is that all of Kyra's belongings are back on Law's submarine; she has a feeling the Surgeon of Death will throw something of a hissy fit if she just blurts out that she's bailing, nice knowing you asshole, have a great life. Considering how weirdly happy he's been since that day she screwed up and killed in his presence, losing her so soon seems like the kind of thing that would piss the man off.

Kyra watches as the enormous green monster on the screen falls, killed by two of the Warlords; dead with his arm still outstretched to grab his human friend. She watches Whitebeard kick a giant's ass with one hand. There are five of the Seven Warlords of the Sea fighting with the Navy; plus at least a hundred-thousand soldiers and the Three Admirals. Whitebeard has all of his adopted 'children' and over forty allied pirate crews fighting alongside him. As expected, the scene is quickly degenerating into one of complete and total chaos. This foolish execution is going to end up becoming a bloodbath.

And Kyra wants in on it, dammit!

"Oi, Law," the sorceress barks, unfolding her arms from where they rest across her chest and turning to the North Blue native. His head swivels so that he is looking at her, one eyebrow lazily raised.

"Yes, Miss Kyra?"

"I'm going. If you don't want to go then I'll say goodbye and pick up my stuff on the way. But whatever you decide to do, I'm leaving."

Oh, he _really_ isn't liking that. Law moves towards her, the rest of his crew divided between watching the two of them and viewing the show on the screens. The captain keeps on coming until he's uncomfortably close, a _very_ unhappy look on his face.

"What do you mean you're leaving, Miss Kyra?" he asks, his voice dangerously quiet. Most people would probably gibber in fear at such a tone when coupled with the look on Law's face at the moment.

"Leaving. Going away. Bailing," Kyra elaborates rather dryly. "I'm going to Marineford with or without your permission. I have some people I want a chance to kill, and a lot of them are at the Navy HQ right now. So I'm going. Are you coming or staying? Doesn't matter to me, I just need to know so I can pick up my stuff or leave it where it is."

"Crew members don't go _anywhere_ without the captain's permission, Miss Kyra." Damn, that would be a horrifically scary voice if he were using it on anyone else. "May I remind you that you are now a part of my crew?"

The girl shrugs, glancing back at the chaos on the screens. "I won't be for long if you're not going to Marineford. You aren't powerful enough to force me to stay, and if you tried I'd kill you. So please make up your mind: are you going or staying?"

Law stares hard at her for several long minutes, scowling furiously. He is on edge, she can tell; apparently he's no more fond of ultimatums than he is of orders. The hand clutching his long sword tightens spasmodically as she waits for him to say something.

"Captain! Captain, look! On the screens!" Bepo is suddenly at Law's elbow, pointing one of his claws at the screens in a frenzy. Glancing over, Kyra has to do a double-take at what she sees.

The Den-Dens used to convey the image are zooming in on something that seems to be falling from the skies. After a moment, the picture focuses enough to reveal a Navy ship and what looks like its crew, plummeting towards the bay at Marineford. A strange crew it is, to be sure: a man with a large red nose; another wearing a long coat with what appears to be a golden hook in place of his left hand; a blue fishman; a... person... wearing extremely small clothes with poofy blue hair and an enormous, make-up caked face; and none other than the thought-to-be-dead Straw Hat Luffy, wearing a new outfit of yellow and red and screaming his lungs out as he falls.

Oh, to hell with this; now Kyra _really_ wants to go.

"Going or staying, Law, because I'm leaving now."

The captain of the Heart Pirates stares at the screen with a gleam in his eye for a long moment before whipping his head back around to Kyra, a grin on his face in place of his former scowl.

"Going. Bepo, men, we're leaving. Come on."

"Aye, Captain!"

Kyra reaches out and snags the sleeve of Law's hoodie, bringing him up short as the others scramble off in the direction of the sub. "I'll meet you there."

That grin turns into a smirk; long tan fingers caress the girl's bare arm from elbow to wrist. "Planning to start the party without me, Miss Kyra?"

The mage waves her hand at the screens behind them, an answering sneer gracing her lips even as she steps away. "Party's going hot already, Law. You'd better book it if you want to join in on the fun."

Her captain adopts a serious look, a hint of menace in those ice-chip eyes. "Don't get yourself killed, Miss Kyra. I'll be extremely unhappy if you do something stupid and deprive me of my newest form of entertainment."

Kyra snorts. "What, driving me insane? Who said anything about me even coming back to your crew when this is done with? I might just disappear; I don't really like you guys anyway, and one of those idiots has already tried to feel me up in the space of three days on your sub. I can take care of myself, thank you very much; I'm not going to die."

Law merely grins at her. "We'll see you soon, Miss Kyra."

He has walked away and is almost out of range before Kyra calls out, "Hey, Law!"

The pirate turns.

"Stop with this 'Miss' shit already! I'm not your fucking ancient next door neighbor! The name's Kyra!"

And then she wraps herself in her magic and is gone in a blink.

* * *

><p>The Navy ship hits the hole in the ice created by Whitebeard Commander 'Diamond' Jozu at exactly the same instant that a large black bubble appears on the frozen surface of the bay directly beside it. Pirates and Marines alike pause in their fights to glance at the sphere, unsure as to where it came from or what it is. It shimmers like oil before vanishing, revealing the figure of a young woman in a black tank top and green cargo pants; her hair whips around as though caught in a nonexistent breeze for a moment before settling. Seeming supremely unconcerned with the audience she has drawn, the girl fishes a hair tie out of one of her pockets and pulls her mop of curls into a high tail atop her head. A cannonball hits the ice not far behind her; she doesn't so much as flinch.<p>

Looking around herself, the girl finally seems to notice everyone staring at her.

"Yo. What are you all looking at? I thought this was a war; don't you have better things to do than ogle me like a bunch of idiots?"

And with that snide remark, the strange female takes a running leap and dives into the water, to the general astonishment of all.

* * *

><p>Straw Hat Luffy is sinking like a rock, and Kyra pushes herself faster through the water to snag him by a foot. Wrestling with his dead weight in the freezing liquid, the sorceress spins around and kicks for the surface. Straw Hat's just a kid; it would suck if he ended up dying here of all places at his age. Kyra glances back to see the blue fishman swimming after her, the man with the red ball on his nose and another guy under his arms. Breaking the surface, she kicks furiously towards the Navy ship from which these men fell, pulling Straw Hat along with her.<p>

She lays the boy out on the steeply tilted deck, glancing up at the fishman as he does the same with his passengers. "Don't suppose you know how to wake them up, do ya?"

Not waiting for an answer, the mage starts smacking Straw Hat none too gently in the face. "Oi, get up, kid. I don't have all day. Get up already."

Cloaking her other hand with her magic, Kyra lays her palm flat against the young pirate's chest. Forcing energy into him, she jolts him back into consciousness so fast that when Luffy suddenly sits bolt upright his rubber head collides with Kyra's.

"OW! SHIT, STRAW HAT, WATCH IT!"

"OW! WHERE'S ACE!"

Straw Hat jumps to his feet, looking around frantically while Kyra rubs at the goose egg growing out of her forehead.

"ACE! AAAACCCEEE! I GOTTA FIND HIM!"

Kyra latches onto the fur of Straw Hat's pants before the idiot can go tearing off in a random direction. He stops as though just now realizing that she is present, his face showing confusion before a light goes on in that empty skull of his.

"Hey, I know you! You're that lady with the awesome powers from Saboady! Did you come to join my crew? We're kinda split up right now but - wait, Ace! I gotta save Ace!"

And he jerks from her hold and tears off in a random direction, scaling the deck of the ship and leaving a dust trail in his wake.

"AAAAAAACCCCCCEEEEE!"

Kyra briefly considers banging her head into the ground. Why is she helping this guy again? He's obviously a complete blockhead. How in the hell has he made it so far in life with such lack of brains without getting himself killed? Pushing herself to her feet, Kyra takes off after him, the fishman running at her side. Marines rush in from all sides, swinging everything from clubs to swords to maces; a wave of a pale hand is all it takes to have them dropping to the ground dead as doornails, their necks all snapped like twigs.

The odd couple catches up to the rubber moron just as he once again screams Firefist's name, facing towards the distant execution platform while standing on the tip of the ship's now-vertical stern. A grin that defies all laws of nature stretches literally from ear to ear as Firefist screams back. Balled up fists are thrown triumphantly into the air as Straw Hat calls out again.

"ACE! I finally found you!"

"Why were you looking in the first place?" Kyra wonders aloud. Straw Hat is too busy celebrating to hear her; it is the fishman at her side who answers.

"Luffy is Ace's sworn brother," he growls around a mouthful of teeth that would make a shark jealous. "Who are you, girl?"

Kyra flicks a mock salute in his direction, eyes already scanning the enormous crowd before them. "Name's Kyra. You?"

"I am Jinbei, but that is not what I meant. Why are you here in such a dangerous place? This is not the place for children."

The sorceress finds it somewhat funny that he would say that when Straw Hat is younger than she is and this Jinbei clearly doesn't have a problem with his presence. "Well, Bluetooth, I'm a dangerous person. What better place for me to be than here, eh?"

Straw Hat, meanwhile, has missed this little chat as he is still yelling to his brother. "Wait for me, Ace! We're here to save you! We're all here to save you!"

_What?_ Kyra glances around at the people coming up the crazily angled deck towards her. The weirdoes she had noticed back on the screens at Saboady are in the lead, followed by well over a hundred men brandishing weapons and wearing the striped jumpsuits of prison inmates. She does not recognize any faces, but then again in the years since escaping captivity and experimentation she hasn't really bothered to read the news; as far as she could figure from what she _had_ read, it's usually a bunch of bullshit World Government propaganda anyway.

Hey, wait a minute.

"Oi, Straw Hat, don't be lumping me in with 'everyone'," Kyra says irritably, moving up to stand beside the younger boy. "I'll be doing my own thing, thank you very much. Firefist isn't my concern."

_**"YOU!"**_

Blue eyes switch from the boy at her side to the figure in white standing on the platform across the battlefield. It is impossible to tell from such a distance, but Kyra fancies she can see the man in the gull-topped hat break into a sweat as their gazes lock. A cruel smirk that would put Law's best one to shame graces the girl's face.

"Yo, Sengoku!" she bellows. "How you been, old man? Still kidnapping little girls? Or do you just stick to fucking goats now?"

The legendary Marine snarls in response. _"769!_ How dare you come here!"

Onyx wisps of energy begin wafting out of the girl's skin, her tied-back hair writhing like snakes as her eyes turn the color of pitch. "My name's Kyra, you fucking decrepit old bastard! And how else was I going to kill you if not in person? Unlike you, I don't always rely on my little brainless lackeys! Your blood's going to paint _my_ hands, Sengoku! Hope you're ready to die!"

It sounds for a moment as though the whole world draws in a collective gasp at her words. Straw Hat looks over at her in surprise; the fishman seems wary. Kyra has eyes only for the man from all those years ago, who took her hand in his with promises of a new life and then left her to suffer under the attentions of a group of madmen.

_"Don't worry, child. These are good men who work for the Marines, and by extention the World Government. You can trust them."_

_"Really? They won't be scared of me?"_

_"No, Kyra. They will be your friends and caretakers from now on."_

_"And you'll find Mama? You'll find her, and tell her I'm okay, and bring her here? You'll really do that for me?"_

_"Yes. I promise, I will find your mother."_

Lies, all of it. The bastard is going to die, and by Kyra's hand alone!

"Straw Hat, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Just don't get near the guy with the bird on top of his hat. That one's mine, got it?"

Before the pirate can reply, the... thing... with the skimpy clothes and enormous head suddenly blurts out, "Where's Croco-boy?"

Kyra does not have the chance to figure out who the hell 'Croco-boy' is; as soon as the words are out of the weird person's mouth, the sorceress finds herself hurtling through the air thanks to the glowing pink arm wrapped several times around her waist. She is still reeling from this when a golden hook suddenly rushes towards her face; there is barely enough time to sheild before she almost loses an eye. The confused mage finds herself unceremoniously dumped onto the deck of a new ship, steaming legs in a classic boxer stance about a foot in front of her face right in the middle of a growing puddle of water.

"I honored our agreement and helped you get here! So why are you getting in my way and protecting Whitebeard?" That comes from the guy with the giant hook attached to his arm, who is standing from where Kyra's last-minute sheild threw him further up the deck.

"So this old guy really is Whitebeard then?" This from Straw Hat Luffy, the fucking idiot that just propelled Kyra through the air without her permission and is now standing with his feet way too close to her face. "Then don't touch him! Ace likes this old man!"

_What_ old man? Lurching to her feet, Kyra spins around to get a better understanding of just where the hell Straw Hat has dumped her and almost collides with a leg taller than she is. Tilting her head back, she is forced to look up much farther than usual to meet the golden eyes studying her from a wrinkled old face.

Edward Newgate. The same guy she's been watching rock the world from back on Saboady, the guy closest to the title of Pirate King, and the one person who really doesn't need to die today unless the world wants to face a few years of complete mayhem. Great, so Straw Hat threw her onto the deck of the Moby Dick. Turning back to the rubber numbskull, Kyra collars him by the back of his yellow vest.

_"Don't_ yank me around again, brat," she warns him menacingly. Straw Hat looks at her in confusion, as though he has no idea what she is talking about.

"But you're part of my crew now! I don't want to get separated from any more of my friends and I had to come over here, so that means you had to come too!"

"I'm not in your crew, you idiot! And who the hell said anything about being your friend?"

"You did! You said you came here to join my crew a minute ago when you pulled me out of the water!"

Before Kyra can relieve Straw Hat of his erroneous thinking - possibly by pounding his brains out with her fists - a deep voice speaks from behind her.

"Oi, squirt... that straw hat of yours... it looks a lot like the one Red Hair used to wear."

The witless wonder hooks an arm around Kyra's shoulders and turns her so that they are both facing Whitebeard, ignoring the low growl that issues from the woman he is manhandling.

"You know Shanks, old guy? I'm holding it for him!"

"If you plan on living long enough to give it back, I recommend you _get the fuck off me,"_ Kyra hisses, shielding enough to shove Straw Hat's arm from her person. Those wise gold eyes move back to her, gleaming with something that might be interest.

"And who are you, girlie?"

"Name's Kyra," she replies, flapping a hand at him in a dismissive fashion. "Nobody you'd know. I'm just here to kill as many Marines as possible and peel Sengoku's face off his skull with my bare hands. Got a problem with that, gramps?"

Looking over at Straw Hat, the strongest man in the world asks, "And you, you're here to save your brother, right?"

"That's right!"

Suddenly looking furious, Whitebeard lets out an inhuman snarl. "Don't you kids understand what you're up against? A couple of squirts like you have no business here!"

That pisses Kyra off. How dare this old geezer say that to her? He doesn't know shit! She has more reason to be here than most anybody else, damn it!

"Fuck you, shitty old fossil!" she shouts at him, magic lifting her hair crazily behind her as her eyes flash deepest black. "You don't know a fucking thing about me! I've got every fucking reason in the world to be here! _You_ spend six years being a test subject for these people, see how _you_ like it! I'm not one of your pathetic little adopted brats who has to ask your permission before taking a piss, gramps! I'll do whatever the hell I want, and if you get in my way I'll break every fucking bone in your body!"

Straw Hat is shouting right along with her, complete with furious hand gestures and declarations of his intent to be the next Pirate King. Still mad as hell, Kyra marches to the very edge of the deck and makes a wide arcing motion with her hand. Instantly, every Marine within one hundred yards of the ship explodes; guts and bones and blood rain down upon the shocked pirates as their opponents die. Turning back around with a sneer, she joins Straw Hat in glaring hateful daggers at the infamous giant pirate.

"I can take care of myself, you stupid bald bastard!" the sorceress snarls. "You're the one who's coming into a fight with a weak ticker! So why don't you just go change your fucking old-people diaper and let us youngsters do the work!"

"What she said, what she said!" Straw Hat shouts, looking just as pissed as Kyra feels. "Ace is _my_ brother! _I'm_ gonna save him! _I'm_ gonna save him the way _I_ want, old man!"

An extremely irritated mage stomps over and clamps a hand around the rubber pirate's elbow. Immediately Straw Hat is encased in a bubble of pure white magic; after mere seconds it disappears, revealing the boy looking as good as new. Where before every visible inch of his skin was marred with cuts and bruises, now Straw Hat is in tiptop shape and his skin is completely flawless.

"Now you can't spout shit on how he's too banged up to do any good," Kyra barks at Whitebeard, letting go of the amazed boy and pointing a threatening finger at the old man. _"Don't_ fuck with me. You don't have any business fighting when your death is exactly what the World Government and the Navy wants. You've got a shit-ton of _younger, healthier_ pirates fighting for you, so just sit the fuck back and watch."

"Hey! I feel great!" Straw Hat flexes his hands, a look of amazement on his face as he inspects his healed body. "Awesome!" Suddenly going from ecstatic to serious in a second flat, Straw Hat turns back to Whitebeard. "Hey, old man. We heard something on that Navy ship just now..."

Kyra can't say that she is surprised by what the boy has to say. Of course that bastard Sengoku would reduce the time until the execution at the first possible moment. Of course the Navy's doing something underhanded behind the public's back. Why would any of that be surprising? Since when did the Navy as a whole give a shit about honor or truth? If Whitebeard is at all surprised by this news, then he is stupider than the brainless idiot in the famous straw hat.

"Alright! Here I come, Ace! Hey, lady, are you gonna come with me?"

Kyra gives a single nod, letting her magic coat her arms from elbow to fingers until it appears that she is wearing a pair of long black gloves. Straw Hat will be making a beeline for the execution platform; Sengoku is standing on said platform. There's no harm in going with the rubber boy; she can always ditch him and press ahead on her own later.

"My name's Kyra, Straw Hat," she tells him, glancing over and shooting the pirate a feral grin. "I'll be watching your back for a while as long as you return the favor. Ready to fight?"

"Yeah! **_LET'S_ _GO!"_**

And with that ear-splitting yell, Straw Hat Luffy and the sorceress Kyra jump from the deck of Whitebeard's flagship down to the frozen surface of the bay - both of them smirking like demons.

* * *

><p>Back on Saboady, Trafalgar Law stands on the deck of his submarine while his crew finishes up with some last-minute preparations. He stands at the railing and gazes out at the open sea, his mind at Marineford with his magician. He is... concerned.<p>

Worrying about one of his crew is not something Law is accustomed to. Every man that travels with him can fight plenty well enough to keep from getting killed; each of them knew what they were getting themselves into when they joined his crew. He is not a nice man, after all; he is the Surgeon of Death, the Dark Doctor. His reputation for ruthlessness is well-earned. Law has personally killed - or permanently rearranged - more men than smallpox; he enjoys death and chaos. His crew knows that, has known that since before they departed North Blue. So while Law is always happy to patch them up, and always has the needed supplies on hand to ensure their continued good health and wellbeing, worrying about one of his crew who is currently fighting is definitely a new experience.

Especially when the crewmate can blow up a man's head from ten feet away or rip out a hundred hearts from several yards distance.

Perhaps it is simply that his magician is a woman? Law has little experience with the fairer sex aside from as bedmates. Though he may be seen as merciless, he does not kill or violate women, does not allow his mean to harm them if it can be avoided. Female Marines are few and far between; those who the Heart Pirates have encountered so far were knocked into unconsciousness and then left as they were. The surgeon once killed a member of his own crew who had deflowered an unwilling lady he'd picked up off the streets; the girl walked off the submarine wrapped in bandages and dosed with painkillers from Law's own infirmary. Aside from that - and the silly geese who inevitably flock to the sweet and fluffy polar bear serving as one of his subordinates - Law has not had much contact with women outside his bedroom. Perhaps his concern for Miss Kyra - or simply Kyra, as she insists he call her - stems only from the fact of her gender?

The idea that she is just some weak little girl in need of protection is so preposterous it brings a grin back to the pirate's face. Kyra herself would likely castrate any man stupid enough to underestimate her strength, and Law is anything but stupid. No, the girl can take care of herself more than adequately. Whatever it is that has him feeling this way is not because of her gender.

It must be simply that Law is unaccustomed to sending his crew alone into battle. When one of the Heart Pirates fight, they all fight together; allowing Kyra to run off into a warzone without them is rubbing her captain the wrong way. This feeling will evaporate as soon as he and the others can meet up with her.

"Captain?"

Law turns so that he is facing the speaker. Neil is standing before him, beanie in his hands and a determined look on his face. "What is it, Neil?"

"Captain, we've been sailing together for a long time, right?"

As Neil is one of the men from the islands of North Blue, and has been with the crew almost from the start, the surgeon gives an affirmative nod of the head.

"And you've always listened to me and the guys before we did anything crazy, right? We're always allowed to voice our opinions, even if you don't agree, as long as we understand that captain has the final say?" Neil is wringing his beanie in his hands harshly enough that it is rather surprising the fabric has not yet ripped.

A single eyebrow slowly begins to climb Law's forehead until it disappears underneath his hat. "Do you have something you want to say, Neil?"

This is apparently all the encouragement the cook requires, as he immediately blurts out, "I think we should leave. Forget the girl and book it for the New World. I think going to Marineford right now would be complete suicide. It's too dangerous, Captain, all the Admirals are there, and Sengoku and Garp the Hero. I think we should cut our losses and leave. That... _girl_ is a monster, Captain, and I think we'd be better off without her, anyway."

A rather large spark of anger, usually banked and smothered within the pirate's heart, is currently being fanned into a raging inferno at the other man's words. Bepo suddenly appears at his captain's side, a look of worry contorting those furry features. The bear opens his mouth to speak, only to be instantly silenced by his leader's raised hand.

"So what you are saying, Neil, is that you want me to abandon a member of my crew," Law clarifies, his voice deathly quiet. "Is that right?"

Neil's face has gone pale from his captain's tone, but it is no less determined. "Y-yes, Captain."

"You pointed out a moment ago that we have been traveling together for a long time now, didn't you? What are the first two rules that those under my command have always had to agree to follow before joining me, Neil?"

The cook swallows nervously. "Don't get yourself killed needlessly... and... and don't leave anyone behind."

"I don't care how badly your pride was damaged by getting rejected or hurt. I don't care whether or not you like the girl. I don't care if you approve of her addition to this crew. Kyra is your crewmate now, and will be until I say otherwise. Is that understood?"

A jerky nod. "Y-yes, Captain."

"And Neil?"

"C-captain?"

Tanned fingers bearing the word 'death' across their knuckles wrap themselves tightly around the man's throat, squeezing hard enough to choke him and yanking him forward until mere inches separated his face from Law's.

"If you _ever_ make that kind of request of me again, or if I get wind that you have been harassing Kyra in any way as fallout of this conversation, I will cut you into pieces and feed you to a Sea King while you are still alive. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes," is the wheezed response. The cook is instantly released, a grin returning to Law's face as though it had never left.

"Good. Bepo, is everything ready?"

"Yes, Captain. Gable's set to take us down as soon as you say the word."

"Excellent. Let's go, then."

"Aye, Captain!"

The Surgeon of Death follows his two subordinates into the sub, closing and locking the hatch firmly behind him. Once in the control room, Law seats himself in his customary chair, propping his feet carefully on the console in front of him and folding his hands behind his head.

"Take us down, Gable. Set a course for Marineford; we've got someone to pick up.

"Aye, Captain!"

_Here we come, Kyra. Don't have too much fun without me._

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>Kyra punches a Marine in the face, caving in his skull and spraying his brains from his ears. The corpse hits the ice at the same moment that another Marine receives a foot through his diaphragm. Off to the side, Straw Hat is surrounded by his own circle of men; those struck by his rubber limbs do not rise again, whether due to unconsciousness or death the sorceress can't determine. Bodies in various states of disrepair litter the ice behind the two.<p>

Kyra snatches one soldier's hand in her own and squeezes; the man's arm from fingers to shoulder explodes, and he falls back with a scream. She reaches over and shoves a pirate out of the way, punching the sword about to cleave said pirate in two and shattering it into half a dozen pieces. Its wielder's jaw is soon swiped from its hinges, flying off across the frozen bay even as he chokes to death on his own blood. Ignoring the thanks from the pirate she just saved, the girl spins around on blackened feet to swing a high kick at an oncoming opponent. Her blow causes his head to tear from his shoulders in an arterial spurt of blood that soaks Kyra's face and front.

"Duck, Kyra!"

The mage does so, dropping down onto her haunches in the blink of an eye. An abnormally long arm shoots over her head to pound into a Marine an instant away from firing his rifle. Kyra is quick to get back on her feet, jumping over Straw Hat to clamp her hands around the skull of a man about to stab the boy from behind. The attacker's head explodes like some overripe melon, showering the two young fighters with blood and brains. Both of them launch themselves at the closest soldiers, fists raised and teeth bared. Chaos reigns around them; Marines and pirates alike fall on the ice as swords and maces and bullets cut through the air. Whitebeard's brats appear to have decided to help the destructive duo, whether because of orders or because they just really want to lend Fire Fist Ace's stupid little brother a hand is unclear.

Kyra doesn't really care, and would just as soon they stop cutting in on her fun. She most certainly doesn't need any protection. She can keep these 'gloves' and the matching 'boots' on for hours without noticeable drain. If these other pirates would get the hell out of the way more often, there would be no limit to the amount of carnage with her name on it. The Marines would drop like so many flies.

A blinding yellow flash shoots towards them; Kyra instantly moves over to grab Straw Hat and wraps them both in a shield. No sooner has she done so than what looks to be a beam of light connects with the protective bubble, sending shockwave ripples over its surface and shoving the whole thing back a good ten feet, knocking the two inside off their feet.

"What the hell was that?" Kyra snarls as she and Straw Hat try to untangle themselves.

From in front of them, a languid voice calls out, "The Tenryubito would be on my case if I let you go again, Straw Hat Luffy."

"It's an Admiral! It's Kizaru!" someone shouts in a panic, causing curses and screams to fill the air as the pirates react to the revelation.

Straw Hat gets to his feet and takes off running, once more bleating his precious brother's name. He gets no further than the shield protecting him, however. Upon trying to barrel through it the boy collides with what must feel like a brick wall, stopping his forward motion rather abruptly. He stumbles back with a curse, rounding on Kyra with a frown.

"Hey, I can't get out! I have to go! Ace is this way!"

The bubble turns black and blinks out of existence, appearing in a different spot half a second later and dumping its contents into the middle of another brawl. Kyra bowls Straw Hat over backwards, saving him from losing his head, and dispatches his would-be killer with a single strike through the center of the chest. Using the power surge gained by transporting, Kyra makes a swift backhand motion as though slapping someone in the face; the soldiers for a hundred yards in front of her explode.

Straw Hat wastes no time, stampeding past Kyra, still intent on reaching the platform. She makes no move to follow. Her breathing is heavy. She is soaked in the blood of others. Screams and cries of pain split the air in every direction as cannon fire rains down upon the ice. People are killing and dying all around her, and the smell of blood is overpowering.

Kyra is having the time of her life.

Laughing, the girl catches an oncoming fist and yanks, tearing the arm from its shoulder. The arm is then encased in black and used to knock its former owner's head off before being tossed aside. Sidestepping someone thrown her way by the rubber menace far ahead, her hand sinks into another man's stomach up to the elbow before she pulls it back, jerking the intestines out with her clenched fist as her victim screams in agony.

Absorbed in slaughter, Kyra is taken off guard when something knocks her over from behind moments before another light sword shoots through the space where her head was two seconds ago. Landing hard on the ice with a snarl, she throws her savior off and leaps to her feet, rounding on the possible threat to see... fishnet stockings?

A man wearing some kind of weird hat that looks like the head of a rabbit, paired with women's lingerie and aforementioned stockings, is in the process of getting up from where Kyra has just chunked him.

"Be careful, sister! That Kuma guy almost blew your head off!" Rabbit-man shouts, struggling to make himself heard over the cacophony of noise from every direction. He gives her a strange little wave before diving back into the fracas, large wooden club in hand. An entire crowd of people - both men and women - dressed in their undies is quick to follow him, screaming battle cries and brandishing weapons. Straw Hat has disappeared at some point. Kyra plows on with little regard for him. She is not here to babysit, and she doesn't really care overmuch if the actual execution is stopped or not. The life and well-being of Fire Fist Ace is not her concern. Kyra is here only for the purpose of personal revenge. If helping Straw Hat Luffy means the chance to butcher a lot of Marines at the same time, then sure, she'll lend a hand. Otherwise he's on his own.

A freakish-looking individual wearing some truly atrocious pants stands a short distance in front of her, laughing hysterically as creatures begin breaking through the ice to attack the incoming pirates. Straw Hat resurfaces, his rubber body catching the bullets shot from the creatures' guns and throwing them back to no avail; the things rise and come forward again. A veritable mob of soldiers descends upon the young Supernova, who sends them flying back with punches and kicks as swiftly as he can. Kyra bolts into the crowd around him, dispatching Marines left and right. Whatever those things from under the ice are, they are not alive; she puts a hole through the head of one, tears the place where an artery should be from the leg of another, and still they do not fall. They simply rise and continue attacking.

"Straw Hat, what the fuck are these things?" Kyra shouts, kicking one away from her and tearing the upper half of its body from the lower. Clawed hands reach for her face, intent on gouging her eyes out. She tosses the torso aside and dodges a live Marine's sword thrust.

"Zombies!" the boy screams back, taking a shallow slash to the abdomen before flooring his attacker. "They're zombies, Moria makes them!"

"Well, how the hell do you kill them?" the mage barks, blowing up the head of one of these zombies even as another takes a swipe at her. Straw Hat fails to answer, distracted by shouts from his brother up on the execution platform. Kyra ignores their reunion, too busy killing any nearby Marines and trying not to get too close to undead fighters at the same time. She does not wish to tangle with something that she does not know how to defeat. The sorceress is close to being mauled by what looks to be a reanimated bear in Marine regalia when a miniature tidal wave slams into her. Floundering helpless in its grip, once the water settles Kyra looks up from her place on the ice to see the zombie warriors crumbling to the ground. They do not rise again. Not wasting time to wonder where the hell the wave came from when the whole of the bay is frozen, the soaking girl zips past the pear-shaped weirdo in time to miss tangling with a giant. The hulking being instead focuses on attempting to squash Straw Hat, with no success, as Sengoku drones on in the background.

"It's only one rookie! Don't let him dictate the entire war this way! That man will be a danger in the future. He was raised with his sworn brother, Ace, but his actual bloodline makes him the son of the revolutionary, Monkey D. Dragon!"

The whole world screeches to a stop for Kyra as her brain sputters over those words. Monkey D. Dragon? Most wanted man in the world? Father to a brainless idiot like Straw Hat Luffy?

_No shit?_

Kyra shields herself from attack, stopping her advance towards Sengoku's position to look back. Straw Hat Luffy has somehow inflated his arm to several times its normal size, until it strongly resembles one belonging to a member of the giant race. This arm is currently being used to punch an actual giant, knocking it backwards. The immense bulk falls to the ice, cracks spider-webbing out from his prone form as the rubber wonder screams that he will save his brother even if he must die to do so.

Heh. Kyra's kinda starting to like this brat.

Turning back around as the creepy people in their underwear move up to stand with Straw Hat, Kyra eyes the Marines on all sides even as they advance on her. All is still for a moment - until a gung-ho soldier lets out a shout and leaps forward, spurring his comrades to follow with yells of their own. Straw Hat and company answer with adrenaline fueled screams as they rush past, weapons at the ready. Cannon fire is heard; the lethal balls hurtle towards them, hitting the ice all around. Straw Hat jumps into the air and inflates himself to bounce one back at the Marines; Kyra extends her shield around the crowd of pirates to protect them and herself from the rest. The shield comes down as soon as the cannons cease.

Elbow-deep in some luckless bastard's chest, Kyra watches from one side as the combined attacks of Straw Hat Luffy, Jinbei the fishman, and the freak with the abnormally large head blast a path through the Marines. All three speedily begin to surge forward, repelling attacks from all sides as they go and closely followed by the hoard of creepies. Dismissing them for the moment, the mage goes back to slaughtering anyone who crosses her path that wears the insignia of the Marines, slowly pushing forward towards her true target. She is going to kill Sengoku today. She will kill him and flay his sorry hide until an open casket will be out of the question.

A battle cry from the side draws Kyra's attention to a young woman rushing towards her, sword upraised. Kyra easily dodges, having no intention of butchering a fellow female even if she is a Marine. Ducking under another well executed swing of the sword, the sorceress grabs the Marine by the wrist and holds her immobile while a magic-encased foot connects with her abdomen. Kyra lets her prisoner go; the woman falls to her knees, every breath of air once in her lungs now knocked from them. Glancing in the direction from which her feminine attacker had come, Kyra is just in time to see Straw Hat wrestling with an overly good-looking woman atop the coils of a pink and white snake. Straw Hat has the look of a child given the key to a candy store; he pulls himself from the woman and tears off, shouting his thanks over his shoulder as he runs.

Strange, spastic little idiot.

Some guy smoking multiple cigars attempts to follow the pirate, but is detained by the gorgeous snake lady. Kyra continues on towards Sengoku, slaughtering soldiers as she goes.

A hand suddenly caresses her elbow from behind. Spinning around, the girl throws a punch at the empty air. Confused, she flinches away from the feel of nonexistent fingers running over her cheek and lashes out with a whip of black magic. If someone is hiding, invisible for whatever crazy reason, that should have taken care of them. But no, here are those airy digits brushing over her neck in a half-threatening, half-caressing gesture.

_Hello, lovey._

Kyra stumbles at the telepathic communication, at that voice which has just spoken into her mind. _His_ voice.

_Surprised? It's been awhile, hasn't it lovey?_

Oh, fuck. No. Just no. He isn't here, this isn't happening.

_No worries, sweet. Sorry I'm not around at the moment; if I'd known you'd be at that little bash I would have gone too._

Thank the gods. Kyra ducks under a sword meant to take her head off, absentmindedly smacking her attacker's chest and causing his heart to implode. Pushing a shield out around herself for protection, the sorceress crouches on the ice and concentrates on the voice inside her head, trying not to let him know how terrified she is.

**_What do you want?_**

He sounds extremely amused, a teasing quality to his mental voice that reminds her of the first time he cut into her with a glowing scalpel._ I don't want anything at the moment, lovey. Just thought I'd say hello. I've missed having you around the labs, you know. Would you like to come visit?_

**_Get out of my head, fucking bastard!_**

Spectral laughter fills her cranium, drawing a hiss of pain from between clenched teeth.

_Now, now, lovey. Why would I be leaving so soon when you have such a pretty noggin for me to scramble? Four years apart and that's all you can say to me? I'm hurt, lovey._

Kyra snarls, both mentally and out in the mess of war. **_Fuck you, sadistic prick._**

The hands come back after this comment, teasing and tormenting in inappropriate places just to make the girl flinch. Fingers massage her neck and shoulders; a palm slides down the length of her back. Kyra shudders, sickened by his touch, trying desperately to shove him out of her mind.

_Oh, I like that suggestion, lovey. We'll have plenty of time to play when I find you. You don't mind waiting, right lovey?_

Another snarl, this one far more animalistic than the last. **_I'd sooner perform fellatio on Sengoku's pet goat than ever let you physically touch me again!_**

The beleaguered woman's knees give out so that they hit the ice, her head screaming in agony at the sudden unbearable pressure from an unseen force. She bellows her agony, hands fisted in her hair as her power goes haywire, gouging out deep craters of the ice to leave only water behind. The pressure increases even as the magic rushes to defend its mistress, building to an awful crescendo until Kyra is sure the only thing currently keeping her head from exploding is sheer dumb luck. Weirdly enough, even as the pain forces her to curl into a ball and she screams and twitches with it; even as her outward magic become wilder and less stable as it fights to save her from absent opponents, the only thing Kyra can think is _Damn, Law is going to be so pissed at me for getting myself killed._

As abruptly as it began it is over, leaving Kyra to lie upon the ice and shiver in its aftermath. Those damned hands are back, stroking her quivering shoulder blades in a mockingly soothing manner.

_There, there, lovey. We've learned our lesson about smart remarks, now haven't we? No need for a repeat, is there? Of course not. You're going to be a good girl for me now, aren't you lovey?_ His voice is soft, gentle. If not for the fact that the speaker spent six fan-fucking-tastic years torturing her to within an inch of her sanity, Kyra would completely believe his sincerity.

**_I'm... I'm going to kill you someday._**

The thought is formed before she can even consider censoring it. Once said, she no long wants to censor it.

**_I'm going to hunt you down and torture you just like you did to me. I'm going to pour chemicals down your throat until you drown. I'm going to remove your organs while you're awake and alive, just to see if you can regrow them like I can. I'm going to kill you slowly... and carefully... and when I'm finished with you, when whatever's left of you is no more use to me... I'm going to give what's left to my new captain for research material. I'm... Going... To... BUTCHER YOU! I'LL FIND YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME FUCKING MONSTER? I'LL FIND YOU, AND I'LL KILL YOU WHEN I DO!_**

Deep, rolling laughter echoes in her mind, even as it begins to fade under the never-ending onslaught provided by the witch's magic. _I'll be looking for you too, lovey. Watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. And when I find you... and I **will** find you... I will never let you go again. You're still mine, lovey. You will never escape from me. Remember that, lovey-dearest..._

And just like that Kyra is alone in her mind and body, huddled in the fetal position even as the pain fades into nothing.

* * *

><p>Law sits on Kyra's bed, hat and sword on the mattress next to him and long fingers running over the leather cover of a book he holds. He has already flipped it open to reveal neat, careful handwriting filling roughly half of the thick text. In his hands he holds his magician's diary.<p>

This should explain why the doctor is smirking.

Bepo has everyone well in hand, and the crew knows how to do their jobs. There is nothing for him to do until they get closer to Marineford. Law makes himself comfortable and flips to a random page.

_Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee_  
><em>All through the night<em>  
><em>Guardian angels the gods will send thee<em>  
><em>All through the night<em>  
><em>Soft the drowsy hours are creeping<em>  
><em>Hill and dale in slumber steeping<em>  
><em>I my loving vigil keeping<em>  
><em>All through the night.<em>

_While the moon her watch is keeping_  
><em>All through the night<em>  
><em>While the weary world is sleeping<em>  
><em>All through the night<em>  
><em>O'er thy spirit gently stealing<em>  
><em>Visions of delight revealing<em>  
><em>Breathes a pure and holy feeling<em>  
><em>All through the night.<em>

_Though I roam a minstrel lonely_  
><em>All through the night<em>  
><em>My true harp shall praise sing only<em>  
><em>All through the night<em>  
><em>Love's young dream, alas, is over<em>  
><em>Yet my strains of love shall hover<em>  
><em>Near the presence of my lover<em>  
><em>All through the night.<em>

_The words repeat themselves endlessly in my head. They're always in Mama's voice; I guess that figures, as this was always her favorite lullaby to sing me. Sometimes I think I'm ill or something; every time I think about her, my chest aches like I've just been punched..._

_...I saw a fishman for the first time yesterday. He was fierce-looking, to be sure, but I don't understand why the people here call them monsters. I've seen those, and this guy was just a different species of creature. Just because he looked weird to me doesn't mean he's a monster. He probably thought I looked weird, too. Mama used to say that it was incredibly stupid to judge a person by their looks. She'd use the shaman's daughter as an example; Lihla was gorgeous even as a child, but she was a total bitch to everyone back home. I wonder if she took over for her father, or if he's still alive..._

_...Another nightmare tonight. It's a good thing this shitty little apartment building is practically empty or I would have had people pounding on my walls, I was screaming so loud when I woke up. Gods, am I ever going to be able to sleep without seeing him? Will I ever be free of this terror that grips me at the mere thought of that man?_

Law flips through the pages, learning more and more about his newest crew member with every word. She enjoys sunsets. She despises coconuts. She desperately misses her mother. She has nightmares of similar circumstances every night, always revolving around the mysterious 'him' who is mentioned but never named in the journal.

Kyra's also been keeping an eye on Law and his fellow rookies, as evidenced when he unearths all of their wanted posters tucked into the pages of her diary. She makes idle observations about each of them. The surgeon is particularly pleased to read her reference to Eustass Kidd, in which she likens the man to a flat-chested whore with hideous fashion sense that needs some refresher courses on how to apply all that makeup he wears. The sorceress has written five whole pages on the subject of Straw Hat Luffy and his crew, praising the brainless fool for his so-called heroic deeds and musing on the nature of such a man that he has ended up a pirate when all he seems to do is run around helping people. Law resists the urge to rip the pages out and shred them; he doesn't want Kyra knowing he's reading this, after all.

On the Dark Doctor himself, the girl has written little:

_This man from North Blue has such a strange ability. I read in the paper the other day that he somehow rearranged the body parts of a whole ship of Marines without actually hurting them. From his wanted poster, he looks like a bit of a smartass; the little grin just seems to say, "Yeah, I'm awesome and I could kill you with my pinkie and never lose the smirk, that's just how awesome I am". He has a cool hat, though. Wonder where he got it._

Bepo gave Law his hat. The bear never has said where exactly he acquired it, and Law's never really cared to ask.

Five little sentences, while Straw Hat is given five pages. He knows that Kyra has no love for the Marines, so his treatment of them surely would not be a sore spot. Does she simply dislike him because, unlike a certain idiot, he is much like other pirates in his dealings with civilians?

_Che._ What does it matter, in any case? Kyra knows nothing about Trafalgar Law; nothing about his dreams and ambitions; nothing about the man himself. Even if she did, Law could care less if the woman likes his personality or not. He is the Surgeon of Death, the Dark Doctor. He isn't some simpering fool pandering for a girl's attention. It doesn't matter if Kyra likes Straw Hat Luffy over him. She is on _his_ crew, and he will not give up so valuable a crewmate without a fight - her wishes be damned.

He tosses the journal aside and picks up Kyra's satchel, rummaging through it. Aside from clothes, most of which Law provided, the only thing in the bag is a small pouch that could be used to hold money or valuables. It does not clink when shaken, and is therefore not full of money. Curious over the weight of the thing, the snooping surgeon opens the pouch and upends it into his hand.

A solid something on a fine golden chain falls out. Law sets the pouch aside and runs inquisitive fingers over the object, bringing it to eye level so that he can examine it.

Jewelry. Kyra does not strike her captain as the type to wear pretty baubles; her ears are unpierced, and he has not seen her wearing bracelets or necklaces. Yet that is what he holds in his hands: a pure gold half-heart on a chain of the same metal, obviously one of a matching pair. Law wonders where the other half of the heart is. Who wears his magician's token around their neck?

He is slightly surprised at the fury this question sparks. Kyra is _his._ No one else will lay claim on her while that holds true, and short of one of them dying she will be his for a long time. Law clenches his fist around the little necklace, his knuckles standing out white against his tanned and tattooed skin. Kyra is his and _his alone._ If anyone attempts to snatch her for their own gain - be they Straw Hat Luffy, the Marines, or some fucking lover the girl picked up after escaping from experimentation - they will be dispatched ruthlessly as is Law's nature. He does not give up what is his lightly, and any crew members remain so unless _he_ decides otherwise.

His little magician is not going anywhere. If she ever does attempt to leave, he will be there to remind her of her place - which is at his side. Kyra is a deadly, dangerous person; just the kind of person Law needs on his crew. Given time, the surgeon is confident that he can convince the girl that she belongs with him and with his men. Where else is she going to go, anyway? Law does not think Kyra wants to spend her entire life alone because of her powers. Who but a band of pirates would be brave enough or crazy enough to befriend her? Bepo is already strangely protective of her; Shachi and Penguin are both enthralled by her abilities (and her breakfasts). Most of the rest of the crew will accept her simply because Law commands it. Aside from Neil (who is obviously going to be a problem) and perhaps the lead mechanic Haru, who is superstitious and thinks women on a ship is horribly unlucky, no one has raised even the smallest objection to Kyra's presence in the short time she has been here. Then again, when the girl can butcher the whole crew with a flick of the wrist, and the captain can mix-and-match any dissenters, that isn't all too surprising.

Law begins tidying up, putting the bauble in its pouch and back in the satchel. The clothes are replaced, as is the journal with its wanted posters. Setting the bag on the floor and moving his sword and hat, the pirate swings his feet up onto Kyra's bed and lies back with his hands behind his head. A smirk tugs at his lips as he closes his eyes, deciding a little nap is in order. Bepo will come get him when the sub nears Marineford. He's got the time.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>Whitebeard has been stabbed through the chest by an extremely gullible - or just very stupid - ally, and he took it with hardly a flinch. Despite this grievous injury the seemingly invincible old warrior has shattered the walls of ice surrounding Marineford, giving his allies a path by which they may choose to escape. He has just bent reality to such a degree that not a single person at Navy HQ aside from himself has been able to maintain their footing, causing the sea to look as though it has been chopped into pieces before being poorly restacked.<p>

Kyra is starting to get a _really_ good idea of why the Marines are all scared shitless of this old geezer.

She is laid out on the cracking surface of the bay, shielding with her arms plunged in the ice up to her elbows, and still it feels as though any second now she's going to freefall into the sky. Suddenly the support beneath her vanishes; Kyra gives a shout of surprise as she really does fall - although down instead of up - through a body-sized crack in the ice created by that colossus somewhere behind her. Throwing her arms and legs out to the sides, she drives them through the walls of liquid made solid and brings herself to a halt before she can plunge any further into the abyss beneath. The mage is unsure as to how long this will last, however; if the icy walls crumble under the force of another attack made by Whitebeard, she might be in trouble.

Damn bald show-off.

Kyra waits until the world has ceased to quiver and twist in her vision before carefully climbing back up to the surface. By this time everyone else has regained their footing and continued on, rushing in the direction of the execution platform. There do not seem to be any Marines in the bay area, but Kyra gives this little thought until thick sheets of steel begin breaking through the ice, surrounding the pirates. Soon the only opening into the plaza is the area covered by the body of the orge killed before Kyra's arrival. Apparently the corpse is too heavy to be shifted by the wall underneath.

She doesn't really have time to be grateful for this, however, because as soon as all the other walls are in place, the one admiral she has actually met in person prior to today - Admiral Akainu, Mr. 'You-**_will_**-be-a-powerful-tool-for-absolute-justice-whether-you-like-it-or-not' - begins shooting enormous blobs of lava into the sky.

Oh, _shit._

It only takes a moment for gravity to take hold. Once it does, monstrous meteors of magma begin raining upon the bay and the pirates trapped within it, shattering the ice like glass and spraying molten rock in every direction. Chaos descends in an instant; screams ring through the air from all around. The ice immediately begins to melt. Those now in the boiling water shriek in agony as they cook like lobsters. Explosions sound from behind; Kyra turns to see an army of identical giant men shooting beams from their mouths and hands at the fleeing pirates. Cannons fire from slits in the walls even as magma continues raining from the heavens. Whitebeard's flagship suddenly takes a succession of direct hits. The huge craft explodes in a shower of flames.

The scene is like something straight out of Hell. All is anarchy. There is nowhere for the people inside the bay to run for safety - nowhere except the area opened by the ogre's corpse, which would be extremely stupid for anyone to try unless they want to die. Obviously the Navy will focus a shitload of firepower on the one spot of vulnerability. It's what Kyra would do if the positions were reversed.

They are trapped like so many fish in a pond, just waiting to be killed.

The sorceress debates, knowing that now is the time for her to make a decision. She can use her magic to teleport herself over the walls and into the plaza, taking her out of this flaming cage and putting her closer to Sengoku. Or she can say to hell with all of this, and flash back onto Law's sub now instead of staying here waiting for his arrival. Then again, she can stay, and try to help some of these men who are willing to die simply for the sake of an adopted brother they might hardly know.

...Yeah. Easy choice.

Cannonballs and lava bombs explode against her shield as she extends it further than she's ever tried before, not stopping until it hits the encircling walls. The army of beam-shooters is shoved back. Pirates are lifted out of the water by a solid black surface that appears beneath them. Confusion is the common response, as the Navy scrambles to figure out what the hell is going on and the pirates look around for their savior. The protective covering flickers onyx for a brief moment before becoming opaque again, and Kyra falls to sit hard on the ground, blood dripping from her eyes, nose, and ears. She coughs, and bloody mucus is expelled from her mouth.

Okay. Apparently she'll have to remember that trying to transport several hundred people at once is a **_very bad_ _idea._** But she couldn't just not try! She's never done it before, how is she supposed to have known it wouldn't work? The black magic encasing her legs and arms blinks in and out for a moment before solidifying, leaving Kyra momentarily terrified that's she's really fucked up this time.

Right. No more transporting today, and no more transporting of large groups _**ever.**_

"Kyra! Did you do this? Are you okay?"

Leave it to Straw Hat Luffy to ask such an idiotic yet somehow sweet question. Kyra wipes at her face with an unsteady hand, trying to clean some of the blood off. Hands go under her armpits, hauling the battered mage to her feet where she wavers for a moment as her balance returns. She opens her mouth to speak; instead all that happens is she leans over at the waist and nearly vomits blood with how fast she's hacking it up. Her body aches something fierce. It feels like she's been chewed up and spit out by a Sea King.

Yeah, definitely a **_very_** bad idea.

By the time Kyra gains control of her breathing, the Whitebeard Pirates seem to have realized that she is responsible for their momentary safety. Strangely, they are anything but thankful, hurling insults at her and commanding that she let them out of the giant bubble keeping them from getting slaughtered en masse. Some of them even stalk towards her with weapons raised, as though to force her to comply with their demands. This just pisses her off, of course. Here she is, selflessly opting to stay and risk her life to help these men, and they have the gall to bitch about it? To threaten her?

Uh, _**no.**_

"Fuck you all!" Kyra screams at them, hands balling into tight fists at her side. "I just saved all your worthless hides, how 'bout a little gratitude? What are you going to do anyway? Make a suicide charge over the ogre's dead body? Oh, great idea, the Navy's so fucking stupid that _of course_ they won't think of that! Is there a single fucking speck of common sense in _any_ of you empty-headed morons?"

Their responses come hot and heavy.

"But we have to hurry! They're going to execute Ace!"

"Let us out of here, bitch!"

"Yeah, don't get in our way, stupid girl! We're going to save Ace and destroy the Navy!"

"Kyra!" Straw Hat grabs her by the upper arms and shakes her, a wild look in his eyes. "Kyra, I have to save Ace! Please! He's my brother, I have to save him!"

"Then find us a way to get over those walls that isn't fucking suicidal!" Kyra snaps, unsuccessfully attempting to free herself from the boy's iron grasp. "You want to save your brother? Do you really think the guy wants to watch you get blown up or have a lava-fist put through that thick skull of yours? If you go over the corpse you're going to die! Find us another way around and I'll drop the shield!"

"Can't you just move us all like you did me earlier?" he demands, sounding desperate.

"I just tried, idiot!" Here Kyra swipes her hand under her nose and shows Straw Hat the fresh blood. "It didn't work. I can't move everyone. Hell, that went so fucking badly I can't even move the two of us! That isn't an option; think of something else!"

The kid shakes her around like a rag doll, wailing about not having time. Oddly, Kyra realizes that she's having trouble actually hearing his voice. It sounds... muted. Like it's coming from far away instead of two inches from her face. Suddenly, _she_ is the one desperately holding onto _him_ as her legs give out beneath her and the black around her limbs disappears. Straw Hat stumbles with her dead weight, ending up on his ass with Kyra sprawled across his lap and trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with her body. Okay, so she's used an enormous amount of magic today and probably just did a nice little bit of damage to her insides trying to transport a shitload of people. But surely the gods don't actually hate her so much as to make her powerless and weak now of all times when she's in the middle of a fucking war and being helpless would sorta kinda get her killed? Right?

_...Right?_

Kyra crawls out of Straw Hat's lap, trying to remind her legs that _she_ isn't the one made out of rubber and having no success. Luffy crouches next to her. Luckily the stable surface her magic provided has not disintegrated, nor has the giant shield vanished. If that happens, they're all going to be in serious trouble.

"Kyra! What's wrong?"

She opts to try standing again instead of answering. Her attempt ends in failure, leaving her to slump back in a sitting position as she takes deep breaths to ward off the darkness trying to creep around the edges of her vision. This is not the time to pass out. This is not the moment to be weak. Sengoku is right on the other side of those damn walls. Revenge is so close the witch can taste it.

Something is abruptly jabbed into her sides. Kyra's vision goes white as she screams with the agony ripping through her body, setting her very blood to boiling. The pain lasts forever and a half, over before she knows what's happening and not finished soon enough. Gasping for breath, the sorceress scrambles to check that neither the plate of power keeping all the Devil Fruit users from drowning nor the shield protecting them from aerial attack has failed during her little torture session. Both are still in place. Shouting next to her draws her attention to the fishman and the cross-dressing freak, who are nose-to-nose and screaming at each other like an old married couple.

"You cannot simply go around injecting people without permission! She is not a normal human child! You may have seriously injured her in some way!"

"Ve don't have time to vait for zis girl to recover! Ve vill need her in zis fight! Stop being such a nag, Jinbei! Look at her, she is fine, aren't you sveetie?"

Both of them turn to stare at her, along with the rest of the pirates clustered around where she's sprawled. Fine? Kyra slowly moves to a crouch, testing the strength of her arms and legs. She calls up a covering of magic to her left hand. It easily extends back to her elbow, the right arm yielding the same results. Legs are a go, too. Her head is no longer throbbing, and the aches and pains have dulled to a mild annoyance in the back of her awareness. Kyra feels a thousand times better than she did two minutes ago.

She is also extremely pissed off.

A lightly clenched fist has the blue-haired dude in drag falling to his knees, clawing at his own throat as he attempts to draw air into his compressed windpipe. Kyra rises to her feet, eyes glowing pitch and hair wiping around her in a frenzy. Whitebeard's men let out cries of alarm and swiftly back away, obviously not wanting to get in the line of fire after having seen the mage in action. She advances on the gasping transvestite, jerking him down by the strap of his top and forcing him to bend at the waist until their faces are within inches of each other.

"I appreciate the help, I feel lots better now. That being said, if you _ever_ put something into my body without my permission again, I will **_crush_** your freakishly large head in my bare hands _like_ _a fucking **egg.**_ My body is _not_ your goddamn testing center. I am _not_ your fucking experiment. **_And don't_ _you ever_ _call me_ _sweetie again_ _or I'll_ _fucking end_ _you._** Got it, freak?"

Her captive nods franticly, his face starting to turn the color of his hair from lack of air. Kyra lets him sweat for a long moment before relaxing her fist, releasing the muscles in the man's neck from her mental grip so that he is able to suck in a long drag. The scantily clad fighters she encountered earlier all immediately converge on the wheezing weirdo, wailing inquiries about his well-being. Turning away, Kyra dismisses the man from her mind and once again focuses on the walls separating her from the revenge she came here to claim.

"We still need a way over those damn walls. Anybody got some bright ideas that don't involve mass stupidity?"

"Pops! Pops'll know what to do!" one of the pirates calls out to general agreement from his companions.

"Fine, whatever. Ask the geezer what he wants you to do. But first you need to move that way -" - the mage waves her hand in the direction of the wall behind which the Navy waits - "- because I'm about to dissolve this platform you're all standing on." She stomps her foot on the black surface for additional indication; she's apparently dealing with a bunch of single-minded idiots, after all. "There's still a thick covering of ice closer to the wall, so get moving."

Over a thousand people immediately turn and book it for the wall, feet eating up the distance as though afraid if they don't hurry Kyra's going to dump their asses in the bay. Well, maybe she will. Stupid bastards, threatening her like that... she really needs to ask Law what the secret to being ruthless is, so she can stop being such a freakin' bleeding heart. It's going to get her killed one of these days.

A gigantic shadow falls over her right before Kyra finds herself being hoisted gently into the air by the back of her shirt. Cursing wildly, she flails about and demands to be released immediately. She is ignored however, and a deep voice speaks over her as a parent would to a misbehaving child.

"I can't help but wonder why you helped me and my sons like that, girlie." Figures it'd be Whitebeard who picks her up like a toy. "I'm grateful, but why did you do it?"

"None of your business, gramps!" Kyra snarls, still trying to twist enough to tear her shirt from the living legend's fingers. "Put me down or I'll break your arm! Put me down, damn it!"

Whitebeard walks her to the ice where his boys stand, ignoring her threats and curses with aggravating aplomb. He finally drops her, without warning so that she lands on her rear with a yelp.

"Jackass!"

"Gura-ra-ra-ra-ra! Such a dirty mouth for a little girlie."

"Oh shut up, fossil!" Kyra angrily climbs to her feet, flicking her wrist at the main body of the bay so that the onyx surface she created earlier disappears. That done, she sweeps an arm over her head and lowers her shield, noticing as she does so that the thought-to-be-dead ogre is back on his feet. A waterfall of blood might be pouring off the thing, but for the moment it's standing. "Don't you have better things to do than pester me, old man? Go save your golden child or something."

She shoves her way through the crowd of pirates rushing to Whitebeard for instructions, trying to get over to the wall. Once there, she throws a punch, managing to sink her arm up to the shoulder in the metal sheets. She could probably claw her way through, but that would take too long. Kyra wants in that plaza now, damn it. Figures her favored means of transportation has decided to crap out on her now of all times; she could use the help in moving and she could certainly use the possibilty of a power boost that didn't force her to rely on getting stabbed by some queer.

_Come on, come on. Get me in there_, the sorceress thinks to herself, punching the wall with her other hand and burying it up to her shoulder so that both limbs are completely surrounded by steel. _Sengoku's in that plaza. I want in that plaza. Sengoku has to die. Get me in that plaza. Get me in there **now**, damn it! **NOW**_**!**

There is a jerk in the vicinity of her navel, as though a hook has been painlessly attached to her stomach. The next instant, the girl finds herself being pulled forward through the solid sheet of metal, through the several feet of rock wall behind it; and into the desired plaza as easily as if she has just walked through a door. The Marines closest to where she emerges all stare at her, looking as shocked as she feels.

_Ho**-ly** shit. How in the **hell** did I just do that?_

Somebody screams and shoots at her. Kyra quickly decides to ponder the physics of her latest ability at a later date; right now she has Marines to kill. Running forward, she punches the head of her man who shot at her and knocks it off his shoulders, spraying blood everywhere. A fountain of water rockets over her head even as the ogre pulls a ship into the plaza amidst much screaming and gunfire. She can hear Straw Hat caterwauling at the top of his lungs somewhere in front of her, but pays him no mind. She's in no hurry; Sengoku isn't going anywhere.

There are plenty of Marines between Kyra and her target that need to die, anyway, and as Law still hasn't shown up yet, the mage has - conceivably - all the time in the world.

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law comes immediately awake when knocking is heard on the door of the room he currently occupies.<p>

"Captain, we're just about there." Bepo, coming to find him because they have at last arrived at Marineford. Law gracefully removes himself from Kyra's bed, donning his hat and resting his sword against his shoulder. The bear steps back as soon as his captain opens the door, giving the man room to exit into the small hallway and falling into step just behind him.

"Where is everyone?" Law inquires smoothly, leading the way to the control room.

"Everybody's in the control room now, Captain. Gable says we'll be at Marineford in five minutes. He wants to know what you want him to do."

"Good."

All talking instantly ceases when the Surgeon of Death enters the desired chamber. His crew is clustered mostly off to one side, knowing to stay out of the navigator's way in a situation such as this. They nod respectfully at their captain, who wastes no time in getting down to business.

"We're here to grab Straw Hat Luffy - and that's it. We are not sufficiently equipped to combat so many of the Navy's forces at one time; we're picking up Mr. Straw Hat and leaving immediately. All of you will be at your stations prepared for a speedy departure at my word. Bepo, Jambal, you will be with me. Any questions?"

Law notices Penguin and Sachi sharing a look, but it is the first mate who speaks up. The bear's ears are twitching slightly; Law wonders if he can already hear the chaos of fighting some distance above them.

"Captain, what about Kyra? Aren't we going to get her, too?"

The doctor begins tapping his sheathed blade against his shoulder, a large grin spreading over his face. "No. Kyra is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. If I've gotten any kind of a feel for her personality, then I'd bet she'll be right in the middle of the heaviest fighting. We can't afford to barge into this war to look for her. With that... teleporting ability she demonstrated this morning, I'm sure our magician will have no problem finding her way back to us. Our objective is _only_ Mr. Straw Hat, not Kyra."

Bepo hesitates for barely a second before nodding his furry head in understanding.

"Captain, we're coming up on Marineford now!" Gable calls across the room. "What do you want to do?"

Law's grin becomes a smirk, and the crew scrambles to their stations as he replies. "Take us up, Gable. We're surfacing right now."

"Aye, Captain!"

* * *

><p>Fire Fist Ace is dead, killed protecting his stupid little brother from Admiral Akainu.<p>

_Fuck._

Kyra races towards Straw Hat Luffy, heart pounding in her chest and every muscle in her body screaming in protest. Fire Fist is dead and Straw Hat has apparently gone into some kind of shock-induced coma. Akainu, thrown back by the combined attacks of some kind of blue-flame-bird-human hybrid and a man with twin swords, is barreling towards the boy with all the ferocity of a pissed-off Sea King. If someone doesn't stop him in time, Straw Hat's going to die too and Fire Fist's body is going to be destroyed in the process.

Kyra does not want that to happen. Straw Hat Luffy, brainless idiot that he may be, possesses what might possibly be the largest heart and the most courage the mage has ever come across. Time and again in the last couple of hours she has watched the boy risk his life against supposedly superior opponents; get his ass kicked; and get back up to repeat it again, all for the sake of his beloved brother. For _family._ Kyra can very well appreciate someone who would go to such awesome lengths for their kin. Straw Hat has won her respect, and she will help him now if she can.

_If,_ because the shot of what-the-fuck-ever from the transvestite has worn off now. The sorceress is in immense pain, and she is just about running on empty. So yeah, if she doesn't get herself killed before her _goddamn lazy jackass_ of a captain decides to show up, Kyra's got a trump card to reward Straw Hat Luffy for his dedication to the one thing the lonely girl misses and craves more than anything on the planet. Sengoku will remain alive for now, but fuck him; Kyra's joined up with a Supernova, she'll have another chance someday to kill the bastard.

She reaches Straw Hat's side just as the fishman does, protected from the living volcano by the bird-human guy from earlier. The boy is still alive, if in horrible shape. The fishman immediately scoops the kid under one arm and makes to run off in the direction of the waters surrounding the devastated island, where all the Whitebeard pirates are headed by orders of the martyr they all call 'Pops'. Kyra latches onto the flowing sleeve of the blue creature's clothing and manages to stall him just long enough to catch his attention.

"Take the body, too!" she screams, trying to make herself heard over all the noise around them and pointing at the corpse of Fire Fist Ace. Jinbei looks at her as though she is insane.

"He is dead, there is nothing we can do!" he cries, making to pull himself loose and continue.

"Don't argue, damn it! Just take it! Make sure the body stays with Straw Hat, I'll find them both as soon as I can! When you get to the water look for a yellow submarine! Tell the captain Kyra sent you! He's a doctor, he can patch up Straw Hat!"

Heat flares unbearably to one side. Kyra manages to get a shield in place, though the strain causes her to staggar and fall to her knees, just in time to keep Akainu from toasting the three of them. Making a weak gesture with her free hand, the girl tosses Ace's corpse at the fishman, who catches it and immediately pelts on towards the shoreline. The shield curls itself into a sphere around her once he's clear, her magic seeking to protect its mistress as though sensing that she is currently unable to move.

Kyra is bleeding from numerous cuts and gashes. At some point after breaching the plaza, her powers had ceased to heal all but life-threatening injuries such as head wounds or those caused by bullets. The damage done earlier by attempting to move all those people is making itself felt once again. The taste of blood is a constant in her mouth. Her bones ache with fatigue. She isn't a hundred percent positive she has the strength left to get back to her feet - she might just pass out right here. Shit, she could really use some help right about now. If this bubble of protection pops, she will be in serious trouble. After the pirates had entered the plaza, that goat-fucker Sengoku issued orders for the Admirals or Vice-Admirals to attempt to apprehend Kyra alive and bring her to him. Kyra just knows if he gets his hands on her she will go back to the labs, and she would sooner die right here where she sits than suffer such a fate.

She needs a way out of here while Sengoku is busy.

She needs a ride that can take her away.

She needs... fuck. She needs _Law._

And don't you know he would just be laughing himself _silly_ if he knew she has just had that thought?

It's quiet inside her bubble. There is no light, as the shield is solid black rather than the normal transparency, but Kyra finds that she doesn't mind. She is exhausted to her very bones. Shifting from her knees until she is sprawled out on the ground, the mage wonders tiredly how pissed her new captain will be if she dies from overuse of her magic. Whatever; she's not planning on croaking just yet anyway, she has too many things left to do. Sengoku needs to die a painful death, along with his special team of scientist and _him._ Straw Hat Luffy and Fire Fist Ace's situation needs mending. She needs more than anything to know if her mother is still alive, and if so Kyra will tell Hell to go fuck itself - she's not biting the bullet until she sees her mother one more time.

She can feel people battering at her shield from outside - probably high-ranking Marines intending to drag her to Sengoku, as per orders. Miraculously, the protection holds under the onslaught without a flicker. Kyra wonders why her magic seems to work better when it takes on a mind of its own, but can't bring herself to care as long as her enemies can't get to her.

_Stand up._

Tendrils of energy begin to split away from the bubble surrounding her, floating through the air to caress her face and arms.

_Stand up. He is here. He needs your help. Stand up. Help them. Stop the new monster._

Her arms are soon wrapped to the elbows in black magic. More of it worms its way under her prone form, slowly lifting her until it sets her back on her feet.

_Come. Stop the new monster. He would take our kill from us. He has put our captain at risk. Fight him. Hurt him. Protect them._

The ground disappears under Kyra's feet for half a second before she settles again, on a different part of the island with her shield gone and Sengoku the Buddha in his infamous Paramecia form a couple of yards in front of her. Standing right next to her, laughing crazily as he looks down at the girl who has appeared seemingly out of nowhere, is a large man with black hair and beard who has what looks like ebony flames curling up from his skin.

"Who's this? Got little kids fighting for you now, Sengoku?" the man bellows. He throws back his head and howls with mirth, not noticing when Kyra moves towards him until her fist connects with his side and sinks into the fat. His howls change their meaning as he is thrown off his feet, sailing through the air to land hard on his face. Kyra is already glaring at Sengoku, eyes black as pitch and hair fanned out around her.

**_"Leave off,_ _lie-breather,"_** she growls, her voice layered with others not-her-own in a terrifying effect. **_"No one_** _**kills you** **but me.** **He put** **my captain** **in danger;** **he's mine."**_

A thick whip of onyx disconnects from her body to lash out at the Buddha, who dodges nimbly in spite of his bulk. Turning back to her target, Kyra stalks forwards like an animal on the hunt. The man is struggling up from the ground, clutching his side and cursing uproariously.

"Bitch! What's your problem, eh? If it's death you want, I'll kill you just like the old man!" he shouts at her, pointing a sausage-sized finger over her shoulder. Glancing back, Kyra is infuriated to see the still-standing corpse of Whitebeard himself, covered in blood and full of more holes than she can count. He is dead, half his head blown off, his coat gone and his lips permanently upturned into a tiny smile.

Fuck.

**_"You fool,"_** the sorceress rasps, layered voice carrying to all corners of the tiny island in her mounting rage. **_"Do you_ _see what_ _you have_ _done? You_ _have turned_ _the_** **_balance of power upon its head. You have pushed the world into chaos and bloodshed. All will suffer the consequences of your actions today. And you will die for what you have unleashed upon this world."_**

"Die? Ze-ha-ha-ha-ha!" The man throws his arms into the air, holding them aloft even as most of his upper body is coated with the dancing shadow-flames. "I won't be dying anytime soon, bitch! I've killed the world's strongest man! I've claimed his powers as my own! I command the abilities of the Yami-Yami no Mi, most powerful of the Devil Fruits! The time of Whitebeard is over; now the age of Blackbeard will begin! No one can stand up to me! I am invincible! Ze-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

His mirth cuts off abruptly when a fist shatters his nose and knocks out a couple of teeth. Kyra strides after him when her punch once again throws him backwards, her magic tossing aside any who approach her with threatening thoughts. She is intent on killing this bastard. He has endangered the man who Kyra has finally accepted as her captain - strike one. He has killed Edward Newgate and set the whole of the world on the path to anarchy for decades to come - strike two. He has attempted to attack Sengoku, whom Kyra swore long ago would die in battle against her as retribution for the atrocities committed upon her person under Sengoku's orders - strike three.

This guy's going down.

She is standing over her intended victim, hand raised in preparation to magically rip his head from the rest of his body, when a strong arm wraps around her abdomen and gently - but firmly - pulls her into a warm chest.

"That's enough, young lady. No more people need to die today. Let it go." The man's voice is calm, kind, yet carries an undertone of command to it. Were he a threat to Kyra, her magic would be in the process of ripping him to shreds;apparently this is not the case. Even more peculiar, the girl finds herself lowering her arm just at this man's say-so.

**_"He should die,"_** she croaks, her powers roiling under her skin just waiting for her command. **_"Hundreds will suffer because of his actions today. Death is his due."_**

His hold on her tightens slightly. "But not today. Not here. He'll get what's coming soon enough, kid, that I promise you. Just not today."

And just like that her magic settles. Kyra finds herself slumping against the mystery man, unable for a moment to force her legs to hold up her weight. The stranger supports her until she can stand on her own before gently leading her away from the monster she still wants dead, who scrambles to his feet and glowers at them both before retreating with a handful of others. The sorceress wants to go after him, wants to end this _now_ before he can do anything else, but her magic is sleeping somewhere deep inside and she does not have the energy for fighting anymore.

"Do you have a ride out of here, kid?" the kind stranger asks. Kyra blearily looks up at him, is incapable of surprise when she immediately recognizes his face. Later she will wonder what in the hell Red-Haired Shanks is doing here, but only after sleeping for a week or two straight.

"My... my captain," Kyra mumbles, trying to force her body to cooperate when all it wants to do is shut down. "My captain was here... in a submarine... I don't know..."

"He's alright, they just left," Shanks assures her, removing his arm from around her and stooping to pick something up. He holds it out to her. It takes Kyra's brain a moment to process that he wants her to take the straw hat, and that his left arm is missing.

"A kid I care about is on your captain's vessel. When he wakes up, will you give this back to him for me?"

Kyra nods dumbly, taking the hat even as she stares at the Yonkou's empty sleeve.

"Only one arm," she slurs out, eyelids drooping as extreme fatigue begins setting in. Shanks smiles at her comment, bringing his remaining hand up to clasp the girl's quivering shoulder.

"Can you get to your captain? Do you need some help?"

_Law._ Kyra's magic awakens immediately, coming out of her skin to form a cocoon around her as the infamous pirate steps back.

"Say hello to Luffy for me," is the last thing the sorceress hears before the world goes dark and silent.

* * *

><p>Law has finished patching up the former Warlord and is up to his tattoos in Straw Hat Luffy's chest cavity when the door to the infirmary bangs open, hitting the wall and bouncing off with a bang like a gunshot. He doesn't have the time to scold his men, however, so he settles for growling at them in displeasure.<p>

"Captain, look! Where do I put her?"

Sachi is rushing over, Kyra's limp and blood-covered body clutched in his arms. The surgeon immediately directs the man to the bed on the other side of the fishman Jinbei, trying not to become distracted by the sight of his magician in such a condition. What the hell has happened to her?

"Check for breathing," he barks, tying off a set of stitching in the rubber man's chest muscles. "Check her pulse. Talk to me."

"She's breathing, Captain! It sounds watery but it's steady. Pulse is weak but there. What do you want me to do?"

"Stay over there with her. Start an I.V. Get those clothes off of her and try to wash her up without exacerbating the wounds. I'll get to her as soon as I can. When did she get here?"

"Just now, Captain. Me and Penguin were trying to get away from Bepo, he's bitching about the heat an' all, so we had just gone into the galley when Kyra just popped out of thin air and landed right on the table. Penguin's gonna clean up the mess. Arg, damn it!" Sachi yells, sounding extremely frustrated. "She's got Straw Hat's - well, _hat_ in her hand, Captain, and I can't get her to let it go! Girl's got a hell of a grip to hold on so tight in her condition."

A voice speaks that sets the hairs on Law's neck on edge, at once Kyra's and not. **_"Law."_**

"Captain's working, Kyra, he'll be over here soon as he can. He's fixin' up Straw Hat, but once he's done -"

**_"Body."_**

There is a pause. Likely Sachi is trying to figure out what the woman is talking about. "Uh, what body?"

**_"Ace... body... where?"_**

The fishman Jinbei had landed on Law's deck clutching the body of Straw Hat Luffy under one arm and the corpse of Fire Fist Ace under the other. His remains had been moved to a corner of the room under the Heart Pirate captain's command. Someone has thrown a sheet over it. Law bends over his patient, listening with one ear as Sachi explains everything in a rush to the girl whose garbled breathing echoes around the infirmary.

**_"Law..."_**

"What is it, Kyra?" the doctor asks, only half-caring what she says when he's having such a good time playing with the kid on his table.

_**"Don't...**_ _**throw it out... fix it... I... fix it later... don't throw Ace... away..."**_

Her voice trails off. A moment later Sachi rushes past long enough to set the infamous straw hat on the stainless steel counters before going back to the girl. "Passed out again, Captain. Still breathing, still has a heartbeat. I'm gonna get the I.V. going."

And Law can only nod his head, too busy wondering what in the hell Kyra meant to answer.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>"S-soft th' droswy hours're creeping...hill an' dale 'n slumber...steeping...I my l-lovin' vigil keeping... all th-through th' night..."<p>

The slurred words wake Law from his light nap in a chair next to his magician's bed. The doctor rises, sparing his other comatose patient a glance before fixing his attention on the girl who tosses feverishly beneath her thin sheet. She is mumbling under her breath, slurring out the words to that poem Law remembers reading in her diary. He places his wrist against Kyra's forehead, frowning at the searing heat coming off her skin.

For nigh on two weeks his magician has lain in a fevered sleep, unable to be roused by means of man or medicine. Most of that time has been spent docked in this secluded bay just off the island of Amazon Lily, isolated and protected from the rest of the world by that tiny kingdom's proximity to the Calm Belt. The majority of the Heart Pirates have greatly enjoyed their little vacation, especially with the meal-time interactions with the exclusively female population of this fair isle. Bepo has been the object of much scorn from his crewmates due to his moping at the lack of female bears, and has taken to sulking on the ship more often than not. The captain, however, could care less about the inhabitants of this island paradise, human or otherwise. Law is more interested in his magician and the question of why exactly she has yet to improve in the slightest. Her wounds are not healing, not even in the normal way; her fever has remained constant through the fortnight; and she has not woken since telling him not to throw out the corpse of Fire Fist Ace.

That's another intriguing little puzzle: the young man's body has yet to begin decomposing. After the first couple of day with the temptation of a fresh cadaver sitting in the corner of his infirmary, Law had ordered Jambarl to move the corpse to Kyra's chambers until such time as she woke up. Every day since he has checked upon the remains, and so far he has neither seen nor smelled the slightest difference. Quite the conundrum, considering bodies do not stay fresh for more than a couple of days after death unless frozen or otherwise prepped.

"Mama," Kyra whimpers, drawing the surgeon's gaze back down to her flushed face. "Said I'm evil, Mama... don't wanna go back... wrong... feels wrong there..."

Law turns away from the murmuring girl as the door to the infirmary creaks open slightly, his first mate sticking his furry head into the room. "Captain, the women brought lunch."

"Alright, Bepo."

After checking in with the few crewmates remaining aboard the ship and ordering his superstitious mechanic Haru to keep an eye on the two patients, Law accompanies the polar bear to the miniscule piece of land which his crew has been relegated to for the last two weeks. The others are all in a line already, eager for the food and for the chance to talk to the scantily dressed women of Amazon Lily. Bepo quickly cuts to the head of the crowd, collecting meals for himself and his captain while Law wanders off to find a shady tree under which to sit. As has happened every day since the fishman was deemed healthy enough to vacate the doctor's domain, Jinbei soon approaches captain and first mate as they eat, the same dour expression as always plastered upon the former Warlord's face.

"Trafalgar Law. Has there been any change in the conditions of either Luffy or that girl?"

Law shakes his head, as he has done every day for the past week. Jinbei's already impressive frown deepens. Without another word he turns and walks away, going to sit on the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea where he will sulk in a dignified manner. Law goes back to his meal, a frown of his own marring his features. Straw Hat Luffy is beginning to become a burden. The surgeon has long since stabilized the boy's condition. Medically, there is nothing more the Dark Doctor can do for his patient. And yet a patient he remains, locked in a coma in Law's sub.

The Heart Pirate captain is growing bored. He is tired of this island; tired of its inhabitants; tired of Bepo's constant sulking and the men's preoccupation with the natives; and tired of Jinbei's niggling presence. He wants to leave. The surgeon is tempted to allow these women to move Straw Hat Luffy into their city and let their doctors look after the boy. If he dies in their treatment, that is not Law's problem. He has done everything necessary to save the life of his future enemy. Whether he lives or not is now up to Straw Hat.

Kyra, however... she gives Law's growing wanderlust pause. She is a member of his crew; her care is his responsibility both as her doctor and as her captain. He is leery of departing until something changes with her. He does not want to be a thousand leagues beneath the sea when that happens - the risks of complications would be much higher in that situation. Law cannot understand why his magician does not improve. He has done everything medically possible to attempt to jumpstart the girl's recovery to no avail. The medicated I.V. drip has had no effect. Injections of antibiotics have done nothing. And most vexing of all is her fever, which burns a steady 102.5 and refuses to go down.

Kyra is extremely ill, has dropped weight from being on a purely liquid diet for two weeks straight, and she is not getting better. The doctor in Law is intrigued by this unusual patient. The pirate in him is annoyed at the delay it is causing and itches to kill something. If not for his magician's poor health, he would likely have unloaded Straw Hat Luffy into the care of the Amazons and left. Instead he sits idle waiting for a sign that his sick crew member will finally improve.

Waiting is not one of his favorite pastimes.

The women have long since left, lunch over and their duty to feed the visiting pirates done, when an ear-splitting scream breaks the calm tranquility of the maiden island. A series of crashes from the sub have Law on his feet, darting to where the disgraced Warlord now stands peering down at the brightly-colored submersible. He has barely stopped when something rockets through the deck directly over the infirmary, flying over Law's head and landing hard on the ground somewhere behind him. A glance over his shoulder confirms that the missile is actually Straw Hat Luffy himself, now struggling to get to his knees with his severe wounds. The boy throws back his head and screams to the heavens.

_**"WHERE'S** **ACE?"**_

Deciding that the crew can deal with the rubber man for the moment, Law quickly goes to his sub and heads for the infirmary. Kyra is still in there; has Straw Hat's destructive exit from the ship injured her? Is her crew going to be trapped in this damn place even longer because of the imbecile whose life Law saved? The doctor strides into his now sunlit domain, sees his magician's empty bed turned over along with most everything else in the room that isn't bolted down, and just wonders for a moment. The girl's I.V is smashed next to her bed, leaving glass all over the floor. Chunks of steel and wood from the ceiling and deck litter the area. Of the girl herself, however, there is no immediate sign. Law sighs, stepping into the mess while rubbing a hand over his face.

"Kyra?"

A rustling noise between the door and the wall draws his attention. Slowly, not wishing to startle her, Law eases the door partway shut so that he can see his magician huddled behind it on the floor, her body wrapped in a sheet and shivering violently. Kyra stares up at him with tired, glassy eyes, one hand clawing at the opposite arm's elbow.

"Law?" she croaks, her voice hoarse from prolonged disuse. "I can't get it out. You have to help me. It won't come out."

Law closes the door all the way and crouches in front of the girl, reaching out to snag her wrist before she can mutilate her now-bleeding arm any further. "What won't come out?"

"The _needle,"_ she whines, wiggling her bloody arm slightly as though to dislodge the thing causing her such distress. "It's _in there_ and it won't come out! _Please_ get it out of me, _please!"_

Kyra flicks her captive hand back and forth, causing a pair of long tweezers to pop out of a drawer in one of the cabinets. The tweezers soar over to hover expectantly in front of the doctor, who releases his patient's wrist to grasp them. Maneuvering both himself and the trembling girl until she sits in his lap with her arm stretched out to the side, Law wraps an arm around his magician's waist to keep her steady and carefully digs the tip of the I.V. needle from the vein in her elbow. Kyra's whole body seems to relax once the tiny sliver is removed, slumping back against her captain's chest with a sigh. Law takes the opportunity to once again press his wrist to the girl's forehead, slightly annoyed at the ever-present fever.

"Thanks," his patient mutters weakly from his lap. Law ignores this, scooping her up and standing again.

"You need rest. You have a fever. Why aren't any of your wounds healing? They're all still as bad as they were when you appeared in the galley, and the war was two weeks ago." He manages to open the door even while still holding her and walks off towards his chambers. Haru comes stomping down the hall, nodding breifly to his captain before going past towards the wrecked sickroom.

"Wounds?"

"Cuts, gashes, bruises, and fractures," he lists calmly, nudging his door open with a foot and strolling in. Kyra is deposited on his bed, after which Law pulls his desk chair over and sits beside her.

Kyra makes a truly hideous face, either from pain or from concentration Law cannot determine. After a short moment the girl begins to glow white, which confuses him - isn't her magic usually black when it manifests itself? Before he can ponder long on this question, the glowing abruptly fades to reveal his magician looking exhausted but unharmed. The bruises on her face and the slices to her arms are healed. The rest of her body is hidden beneath that sheet she's wearing, so he is unable to know if all her injuries are gone.

"The magic was sleeping," is all she says, and Law lets the matter drop.

"This isn't my room," the girl mumbles tiredly, obviously confused as her eyes sweep his bedchamber.

"It's mine," Law informs her, smirking at the horrified look that soon covers her face. "I won't rape you, Kyra. I just thought you would prefer to share my bed rather than sleep with a corpse."

"Corpse?" she parrots, eyebrows jumping up closer to her hairline. "Have you been killing a lot of people while I was asleep? Surely there's a better place for your victims than my bedroom."

"It's not mine. You're the one who told me not to throw out the body of Fire Fist Ace."

Law can practically see the light switch go on in her head. Kyra bolts upright, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as though to stand. He is blocking her before her feet touch the floor.

"Lay back," he orders, putting a hand on her shoulder with every intention of shoving her backward. "You need rest."

Kyra deftly ducks under his arm and gets around him, nearly running for his bedroom door in her haste.

"I'm not sleeping in your bed!" she practically yells back at him as she darts to her own room. "Keep dreaming, Law, that's never going to happen! And I'm fine!"

Law follows across the hall and sticks his foot in her doorway even as she tries to close it in his face, foiling her attempt. Pushing it open with one-handed ease, the surgeon calmly advances on the swiftly retreating girl, backing her into the wall on the far side of her room. Kyra looks absolutely flabbergasted, as though unable to understand what is going on. She makes a quick backhand gesture in Law's direction, panic flashing in her blue eyes when nothing happens. Unlike the startled magician, however, her captain is fairly certain he can guess why.

"You know, Kyra," he purrs, caressing her name as her back hits the wall a second before his arms form barriers on either side of her head, "I had quite the strange experience with that... _magic_ of yours while you were unconscious. I think it likes me. What do you think?"

What Law is saying is completely true. Hours after the escape from Marineford, when Straw Hat Luffy had finally begun to stabilize and Law had managed a spare moment, the surgeon had approached Kyra's prone form to see if her wounds had started healing or if he would need to do anything. Surprised to see her body just as battered as it had been when Sachi lugged her into the infirmary, Law had reached out his freshly gloved hand to examine his magician more thoroughly. His intent was sidetracked, however, the moment his fingers grazed the girl's skin. Instantly coils of darkness had lashed out at him, quickly encasing Law from head to toe and holding him completely immobile. Law had been trapped in that pressing blackness, helpless to defend himself, and felt a small jolt of fear that he might actually die from his magician's unconscious attempt to protect herself. Miraculously, as suddenly as the magic had attacked him it released, stroking Law's face and hands as it retracted back into Kyra's comatose body.

Not once since has the girl's magic attacked the Heart Pirate captain in any way. Penguin had tried to change the I.V. drip in Kyra's arm once, only to be smacked back by a whip of power. Neil - on Law's orders - attempted to spoon-feed the girl some broth; the bowl had exploded in his beefy hands, showering the cursing cook with hot soup. Bepo had said that Kyra's 'smell' was wrong, like someone else was wearing the girl's skin. The bear had steered clear of the medical center as much as possible, only venturing to the door to ask after Kyra's condition or to summon his captain for meals. Law alone has treated the girl and emerged unscathed, something he finds terribly amusing.

Judging by the look on her face as all of this is explained to her, Kyra is _anything_ but amused.

"Oh, fuck no," she blurts out as soon as Law finishes speaking. The surgeon just grins widely, enjoying her reaction to the revelation that he is now apparently safe from her magic. "You're kidding me. _Please_ tell me that was a shitty joke."

"Afraid not, Kyra," he replies, moving his hands inward just enough to brush her too-pale cheeks with his thumbs. Some medical part of his brain informs him that the raging fever is somehow gone; apparently that white glowing has healed her sufficiently for the elevated body temperature to fade. He is briefly surprised - though immensely entertained - when his magician moves enough to begin lightly banging her head against his shoulder.

"Why, gods? Why the fuck do you all hate me so much?"

Law laughs at her, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her away from the wall. Kyra moves almost docilely, without a snarky comment or an attempt to break his ribs with an elbow. The way she drags her feet tells the surgeon exactly how tired she still is, although she's doing an admirable job hiding it.

"Wait, where are we going?" she exclaims as he steers her out of her room and in the direction of the galley. "Fire Fist, his body was in there, I need to -"

"Whatever it is you have planned, it can wait until you've had something solid in your stomach," Law overrides the girl, maneuvering her to sit in the chair to the right of the table's head. "Fire Fist Ace is not going anywhere. Don't move from that chair; I'll be right back."

He is gone just long enough to track down Neil and inform the others that Kyra has woken at last. Sachi, Penguin, and Bepo follow Law and the cook back to the sub to see her, Neil muttering quietly under his breath all the while. The surgeon is not pleased to find Kyra's chair empty, somewhat angered that she would blatantly ignore a direct order from her captain. Her absence is extremely brief, as almost instantly she comes shuffling back from the direction of her room, dressed in clean clothes with her wild ringlets pulled into a loose tail at the nape of her neck. She slumps back into her seat without a word, her head hitting the wooden surface of the table with a dull thud.

Sachi and Penguin ease towards her as Law waves Neil over to the fridge, silently ordering the man to prepare something for Kyra to eat. Bepo quietly moves to sit across from her, his beady little eyes narrowed slightly as his nose scents the air. Apparently whatever he smells is pleasing to the bear. He visibly brightens and relaxes, regarding the slumped girl with the animal equivalent of a smile.

"Feelin' better, Kyra?" Sachi asks, taking the seat next to her as Penguin makes himself comfortable against the wall. Kyra grunts, wearily lifting her head from the table to peer at her crewmate.

"Peachy," she replies, her voice dripping with so much sarcasm that Law smirks. _Someone's_ a little cranky.

"Well you look a hundred times better," Penguin tells her bluntly, regarding the girl under the brim of his cap. "Looked like shit when you plopped down onto the table out of thin air. Do you have _any_ idea how much you were bleeding? That took hours to clean up."

Law watches his magician bristle, obviously annoyed.

"Well, excuse me for having the gall to bleed," she snaps, glaring at Penguin rather impressively considering how tired she looks. "I'll try not to do so in your presence again, _sir."_

Penguin holds up his hands to placate her. "Hey, I was just making conversation. All I'm saying is that you look better. Tired, yeah, but better. That's a good thing."

Kyra's eyes go to the table, and the Dark Doctor smirks again when he realizes his little killing machine is embarrassed. "...Thanks. Having weird healing abilities comes in handy sometimes. I probably could have healed days ago, but I might have kinda sorta overdid it at Marineford." Here she shoots a guilty look in Law's direction, as though in fear of a lecture. "My powers were as out of it as I've been. Guess I'll have to thank Straw Hat for throwing me into a wall."

Neil marches over, banging a plate piled high with sandwiches down in front of the girl.

"Eat it. If you don't like 'em, maybe you can just magic 'em into something tastier," the cook sneers rudely, leering at Kyra in a way that comes close to pissing Law off. Hasn't he already told the fool what will happen if he harasses her? Before the captain can say anything though, Bepo lets loose a low growl that has everyone in the room looking at him in surprise.

"Captain says you're not to bother her," Bepo remindes the cook, showing his teeth in a classic case of alpha male intimidation. Kyra is quick to make a dismissive gesture, picking up one of the sandwiches and taking a large bite.

"It's no deal, Bepo," she soothes with her mouth full, much to Law's amusement as Penguin and Sachi gape in half-disgusted astonishment. "And don't worry, mister; you might reportedly suck ass at making breakfast, but I guess even you can't fuck up a sandwich. These are fine. Thank you."

Neil's face turns bright red. He turns away from the chowing girl, flinching slightly when Law catches his eye with a warning look. He has almost cleared the doorway leading in the direction of the hatch when Kyra calls out to him around a bite of sandwich.

"Hey mister, don't go too far. I'm bringing a dead guy back to life after I eat. Since you already think I'm a freak, I thought you might want to watch so you'd have ironclad proof."

The Surgeon of Death raises an eyebrow at the girl, who responds by stuffing half a sandwich in her mouth and grinning widely at him. Bring back the dead? This he's got to see.

* * *

><p>Kyra is fucking tired, and if she doesn't find Straw Hat Luffy and the fishman Jinbei soon, she's calling off the search and going back to the sub to sleep. Law's bed, the infirmary cots, the floor - wherever. Sleep is sleep when she's this worn out.<p>

She trails the two scantily clad warrior women deeper into the forest, following the swath of destruction that should lead them straight to the distraught pirate. The women had shown up at the sub just as Kyra had finished polishing off the last of her lunch, along with quite a few others led by the gorgeous chick the mage remembers seeing briefly at Marineford. After a quiet conversation between her and Kyra's captain, these two women had stepped forward with an offer to escort her to where Straw Hat Luffy is at present. Law and the rest of the crew remain at the sub; apparently men are forbidden to venture into the island proper, with the exception of Straw Hat for reasons that have yet to be explained. Jinbei doesn't count, as Kyra has had it pointed out to her that while the fishman is indeed male, he is not actually a human man. Bepo could have come with her, but the rest of the crew had thrown a fit when that was suggested. If they can't wander freely around the maiden island, it is out of the question for Bepo to have that right. The docile creature had practically sunk into himself in apology before attempting to hide behind his captain.

So here she is, following two strangers in what look like animal skin bikinis through a wild jungle barely two hours after being snapped out of her coma-like state. Kyra wonders again why she's going through so much trouble to help this kid before reminding herself of the risks he took back at Marineford for his brother. He is worthy of her aid, even if he is an absolute moron.

All the same, the sorceress is extremely pleased when they finally step into a torn up clearing, right across from where the bandage-wrapped rubber man and the whale-shark fishman sit talking. Jinbei looks over at the women when they break through the surrounding foliage, his eyes going straight to Kyra. Next to him, Straw Hat Luffy scrambles to his feet at the sight of her, running over on decidedly wobbly legs.

"Kyra!" he exclaims in that obnoxiously loud way of his, practically throwing himself at her and nearly knocking her over in his haste to wrap her in a crushing hug. "I'm glad you're okay!" Tears fill the boy's eyes at this point. "Kyra, Ace died!"

"I know, Straw Hat, but-"

"But I'm better now! Jinbei knocked some sense into me! I'm gonna find my friends! It's what Ace would want me to do! You're coming with me, right? You have to meet your new crew!"

Kyra makes a subtle wiggling motion with her left hand. A band of black magic wraps itself firmly around Straw Hat Luffy's mouth, effectively shutting him up. The sorceress uses his momentary confusion to pry herself out of his arms, sitting down in the broken clearing and pulling the boy down to sit with her.

"The gag comes off when I'm finished talking. Listen for a minute, Straw Hat. You payin' attention?" She eyes the rubber maniac, who gives several exaggerated nods to indicate that he is indeed listening.

"Good. Here's the deal, Straw Hat: I'm not joining up with your crew. I'm already a Heart Pirate under Law, I'm pretty sure I can't be one of your crewmates at the same time. So no, I won't be going with you to look for your friends. _Don't_ interrupt," she warns sternly, for the boy has adopted a pathetically dejected look and is mumbling behind his gag. "I'm not going with you, but your brother will be."

Luffy leaps to his feet, going from dejected to enraged in half a second. He waves his fists at her angrily, shouting something through the gag. For a moment it looks like he might punch Kyra, so she makes a slow fist and wraps the pirate's entire body in a shell of onyx, leaving only his head uncovered so he isn't in danger of suffocation. She then throws up a shield around the both of them, because apparently Jinbei - who is marching over with some serious heat in his expression - heard that last comment and is _not_ happy. A gesture of the hand has Straw Hat on his ass on the ground again, a literal captive audience.

"I was _not_ finished talking, idiot. I said, I'm not going with you but your brother will be. What I would have _added_ if you hadn't gone apeshit is that I'm willing to bring your precious big brother back from the dead. I've got his corpse back at the sub. If you'll calm the hell down I'll let you up and we can head back."

Raising her voice slightly, Kyra calls to Jinbei without looking away from the dawning joy on Luffy's face. "You hear that, Jinbei? I'll let my shield down when you get calm enough that I don't have to worry about you trying to eat me or something. Might want to hurry up, the kid's ready to go, I think."

"...Are you toying with Luffy? Can you truly bring Ace back from the dead?" the saltwater samurai demands, disbelief quite plain in his voice.

Kyra gives a shrug as though totally unconcerned. "Done it before. Just 'cause this guy's had his innards fried shouldn't mean a whole lot considering I've brought back men whose bodies had been blown to pieces."

Straw Hat is simply wiggling with happiness at her words, a mixture of fierce joy and deep love in his eyes as he once again tries to speak around the magical gag. Kyra removes it and the boy burst into speech at once.

"Oh-my-gods-can-you-really-?-that's-freakin'-awesome-Ace-I'm-gonna-see-Ace-Jinbei-come-on-let's-go-let's-go-let's-go!"

The mage tentatively lowers her shield, relieved when she does not instantly lose her head by way of a pissed-off kung-fu kick. Releasing Straw Hat from his shell, she watches as the kid jumps to his feet and starts running in a circle around the clearing, screaming for all the world to hear that he's going to see his precious Ace again. The running and shouting cut off rather abruptly, however, when Luffy lets out a massive cough. Blood trickles from his mouth as he retches again and again, bent over with his hands on his knees. Jinbei is at his side at once, but Straw Hat soon straightens again with a slightly bloody smile for Kyra.

"Why are you still sitting down? Let's go!"

Kyra slowly struggles to her feet, leg muscles cramping from tiredness and her entire body sagging. She really wants to go to sleep. As soon as Ace is back in the land of the living, she's getting into her own bed and sleeping for the next several days.

Jinbei and Luffy lead the way back to Law's sub, the Supernova riding piggyback by order of the fishman. The silent Amazon women stay with Kyra as she plods along behind, dragging her worn-out body as fast as she can. Luckily Bepo is waiting at the very edge of the jungle. The bear darts into the treess and scoops the exhausted mage into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the sub. He sets her down in the grass on the edge of the cliff, next to her captain who is holding Luffy's prized hat in his hands and gazing out to the sea. Law looks over and smirks at Kyra, opening his mouth to say something only to be interrupted.

"Hey, you're that guy from Saboady! The guy with the bear! Hey, a bear! Are you guys the ones who patched me up? Thanks a lot, I owe you one!" Straw Hat darts over, ignoring the way that gorgeous woman from earlier starts swooning over him. "My hat!"

Law hands over the headwear, which Luffy immediately jams onto his pate with a grin.

"Kyra! When are you gonna fix Ace?"

"Just a moment, Mr. Straw Hat," the smirking surgeon cuts in smoothly, laying his warm hand on Kyra's shoulder. "Kyra needs to rest for a few minutes. Fire Fist isn't going anywhere, she has all the time in the world to fix him. Let her catch her breath for a moment."

Luffy stares at the two of them for a moment with a blank look before smiling brightly. "So she's tired. Okay! Hey, look at all the **_FOOOOD!"_**

And he tears off towards the small mountain of food that has been brought while Kyra was in the jungle, immediately digging in with gusto.

Kyra sits down rather abruptly, dangling her feet over the edge of the cliff and trying to catch her breath again after the return trek through the wilderness of the island. Law sits beside her, an annoying little smirk on his thin lips as he leans his weight back on his elbows and gives her a once-over. His eyes linger here and there, raising a blush on Kyra's cheeks as she scowls at him.

"What are you looking at?" she snaps. Law merely grins, quirking a single eyebrow at her.

"You, obviously," he drawls, flashing his perfect teeth at her as he smiles. Kyra grimaces, knowing full well she walked right into that one, and plops backwards to lie down so she has an excuse to close her weary eyes.

"You're going to be an annoying pain in my ass now that I can't just zap the shit out of you whenever you piss me off, aren't you?" she asks tiredly. She's still trying to wrap her head around that; her magic trusts _Law_ enough to deem him no threat? To consider him an ally? A _friend?_ The only other person ever safe from Kyra's magic before has been her _mother._ And this guy is... well, suffice to say perhaps her magic is not so great a judge of character as one might hope.

Fingers graze her cheek, brushing over her closed eyelids to sink into her hair.

"You have _no_ idea."

Wonderful.

The sorceress makes no argument when the fingers in her hair gently begin to massage her scalp, relieving some of the headache her recent ordeal has brought on. She can feel herself slipping from wakefulness into unconsciousness and tries half-heartedly to fight it. She can't go to sleep yet. She still has to resurrect Fire Fist Ace, and Kyra's pretty sure she can't do that in her sleep.

Lips graze her ear as a deep voice whispers to her. "Go to sleep, my magician. Fire Fist Ace will still be here when you wake up. Just get some rest."

She ought to be saying something snarky right now, like 'personal space is a wonderful thing, jackass,' or "what the fuck do you mean, _your_ magician?" Instead Kyra sighs in defeat and slips into dreams, Law's fingers on her skin the last sensation she is aware of.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra is my idea.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is a good idea?"<p>

Kyra peers up from her seated position on the ground, eyeing the polar bear currently hovering over her. In Bepo's arms is the sheet-wrapped corpse of Fire Fist Ace. The bear has just returned after being sent by Law to fetch the body, and if Kyra is reading his animalistic features correctly, Bepo is very uneasy.

The sorceress crosses her legs and pats a thigh, indicating that he should set the body's head in her lap. "I've done this before."

Fire Fist Ace is gently deposited before her. Bepo takes several long strides back as soon as he is relieved of his burden, moving to stand rather protectively near his captain as the fur on his head stands on end. The rest of the crew is clustered just behind them, a crowd of the island's women watching at the edge of the forest. Jinbei waits with the Heart Pirates, a restraining hand on the shoulder of Straw Hat Luffy. The rubber pirate is nearly bouncing with excitement and anticipation at the notion that soon his precious brother will be among the living once again. He has been forced to wait a whole night for this, as Law had not allowed him to wake Kyra from her slumber the previous afternoon and had instead transported her to his own quarters. The mage roused this morning in her captain's bed - alone, thank the gods - and had been ambushed by Straw Hat as soon as she set foot out on the sub's newly repaired deck. So it is that only about half an hour after waking, Kyra is preparing to resurrect someone for the first time since her escape from Naval captivity.

Law moves forward and crouches next to her, for once not grinning or smirking but frowning slightly as though displeased.

"What should I be prepared for insofar as the medical care you'll require after this?" he asks quietly, ice-chip eyes boring into her own. She can smell his scent, like a mixture of medical antiseptic ointment and the sea he travels; she had woken up practically wrapped in it along with his sheets. Kyra swallows hard and looks away, forcing her attention back to the body whose head rests in her lap.

"I don't know," she begins, only to be abruptly cut off by the doctor.

"You said you've done this before," he reminds her, sounding irritated and slightly suspicious. She realizes he thinks she has lied to him, and turns a scowl in his direction.

"I have, but never after a full two weeks. Usually it's been kind of an instant thing." She can feel her cheeks heating and her scowl deepens. "I used to have control problems, okay? I'd kill people on accident and then freak out and bring them back to life. It took years to learn even a little control over my powers. I've gotten pretty good, but this guy's been dead longer than anybody I've ever brought back, so I don't have a clue what repercussions this is going to have."

Something in her captain's expression changes, letting her know that he understands. He reaches out to briefly squeeze her shoulder before standing and retreating to give her space.

"Be careful," he says with a warning glance to her. "I will not be pleased if you push yourself too hard so soon after coming out of your coma."

"How touching," Kyra mutters, letting a shield push out around her until it has expanded to within inches of Law and Bepo. It slowly begins to go from transparent to solid black, something that is apparently not pleasing to either of the present Supernovae.

"Hey, wait! I wanna watch what happens!" Straw Hat exclaims, pulling away from Jinbei and running towards the shield. He bounces off it, tripping over his own feet as he skids back and goes sprawling.

"What are you doing?" Law demands, back to looking somewhat displeased.

Kyra gives a shrug as the blackness spreads until only a skylight and a small circle through which she can speak to the surgeon remains, supremely unconcerned with his annoyance.

"I'm not a freak show you get to watch perform tricks. I want some privacy, not a fucking audience. I'll drop the shield when I'm finished. Try not to have a stroke or dissect anybody in the meantime."

And she waves her hand in a purposefully dismissive manner, sealing herself in a protective shell of onyx energy with no opening but for the one far above her, which bathes her and the corpse in sunlight. Once secured from prying eyes, the sorceress places her fingertips on the sheet that covers Fire Fist Ace's body. The cloth instantly vanishes, leaving the dead pirate dressed in the tattered shorts he wore at his execution. Dried blood is caked over his torso, sprayed out from the large hole in the center of his chest. The tattoo on his back is ruined, punched inwards and fried; she'll probably be able to fix that. In the interest of caution, since she has never brought back a person who's been dead for so long, she will undo his injuries before trying anything. First she needs to heal the extreme damage: pretty much regrow his heart, which has been mostly melted, fix his diaphragm, repair the missing chunk of spine, stuff like that.

For all she knows, to do otherwise might stick the man's soul back into the wrecked shell and kill him all over again.

Best to avoid that.

White magic wraps around her hand. Kyra places her palm over the center of the hole and closes her eyes, concentrating. Instantly a picture of the internal damage fills her mind, showing her exactly what she is dealing with. The sorceress very carefully allows small tendrils of her power to extend into Ace's chest cavity, probing the melted bones and caressing the charred organs. Ever so slowly, one strand of tissue at a time, Kyra begins to heal.

Time passes by, unnoticed and unimportant. Her entire concentration has narrowed down on the cadaver entrusted to her care. Piece by piece Kyra slowly regrows or repairs the pirate's organs, bones, muscles, and skin. She carefully works her way back to the surface, lingering at newly regrown muscles to ensure the heart is properly protected. The body - inside and out - feels hot to her touch; she assumes this to mean that Fire Fist will retain his Devil Fruit ability once she revives him. This is good, as Kyra had been uncertain if that would be the case. She has never resurrected a Devil Fruit user before.

At last everything is healed, regrown into its proper shape once again. Kyra takes a moment to catch her breath, noticing for the first time how tired and drained she feels. She is still not completely recovered from the war, and this prolonged healing session has zapped her of a great deal of strength. No matter; it is finished now, and as Kyra has yet to pass out from exhaustion or strain she will count herself lucky. Law will probably pitch a hissy fit, but screw him. She turns Fire Fist's body onto its side, tracing a finger over the newly-repaired tattoo that marks him as a Whitebeard pirate. She remembers seeing matching tattoos on the skins of her own crewmembers and makes a mental note to talk to Law about getting one of her own. If she is to be a Heart Pirate, she will wear their mark. Should for some reason she ever desert the crew, ridding herself of the tattoo will be a simple business with her powers.

The sorceress gently sets the body to lie on its back, head still in her lap. She slips her fingers into shaggy black hair, brooding. What should she do now? The vessel is ready, but how does she bring back the spirit after so many days? Experimentally, Kyra frees one hand and makes a 'come here' gesture with her fingers, concentrating hard on what she wants. She needs to feel it; the presence of the desired soul. All the other people she's brought back to life immediately after killing them had possessed souls with individual colors and textures that Kyra could feel and see just as easily as she could the lifeless bodies of the dead. Every soul is unique, and she needs the right one if she wants to give Straw Hat Luffy his brother back.

Heat envelops her of a sudden; she is abruptly surrounded by the image of a raging inferno.

**_LUFFY-SORRY-BROTHER-NEEDS-ME-LEFT-YOU-SORRY-LOVE-YOU-LUFFY-LUFFY-LUFFY-_**

Kyra's head pounds under the onslaught of this voice she hears. She presses her hands to her ears, trying futilely to block it out as it continues to wail.

_**LUFFY-POPS-EVERYBODY-LOVES-ME-LOVE-YOU-SORRY-SORRY-DIDNT-DESERVE-TO-BE-BORN-**_

"Ace!" she calls out, grabbing the man's head with both hands without realizing what she's doing. "Fire Fist Ace!"

**_FIRE-FIST-ME-ACE-MY-NAME-STRANGER-WHO-ARE-YOU-WHERES-LUFFY-WHERE-WHO-_****_ARE-YOU-_**

"I'm an ally of your brother's!" Kyra shouts, trying to concentrate around the horrible pain in her cranium. "I'm a friend!"

**_BROTHER-LUFFY-LUFFY-LUFFY-FRIEND-YOU-WHAT-DO-YOU-WANT-WHY-AM-I-HERE-WHERE-IS-HERE-WHERE-IS-LUFFY-LUFFY-BROTHER-FRIEND-_**

"Luffy's here! He wants you back and I can help you! Calm the fuck down before you blow up my head!"

The illusionary fire around her simmers down exponentially. The heat goes from unbearable to pleasantly warm in a heartbeat. Kyra can feel something wet in her ears, trickling from her nose and eyes. She acknowledges that the moisture is blood and discards it as momentarily unimportant. What is important is that the immense pressure in her head has alleviated greatly; she can now think around it much better than she could a minute before.

"Thanks," the sorceress says, speaking as she would to someone right next to her instead of shouting. "That's much better."

_sorry-sorry-hurt-you-luffy-wheres-luffy-brother-left-him-needs-me-_

"Your brother is fine," Kyra assures the presence fidgeting around her, brushing up against her before shying away. "My captain patched him up after you died. He'll be okay."

_luffy-luffy-brother-fine-alive-needs-me-help-me-what-you-help-me-why-_

"I like your brother. I like a guy who would throw his life away for his family the way you did. People like you are worth saving."

_luffy-luffy-brother-family-save-me-please-save-me-brother-needs-me-save-me-luffy-luffy-needs-me-please-_

"Okay," Kyra soothes, stroking her hands through pitch black hair. "Just calm down first, alright? I don't know if I can do this if you won't calm down. I want to help you, I want to bring you back to your brother, but I need you to work with me. This is a little different than how I usually do this, so I'm going to need your help. Okay?"

_yes-help-you-help-me-luffy-luffy-brother-get-back-to-him-needs-me-help-us-_

"Right." White magic slowly encases Fire Fist's form, draining more energy from its already exhausted mistress as she struggles to maintain her connection with the soul. "Just don't fight me. If you feel a tug or something, don't resist. Just let it take you. It'll be alright. Trust me, okay?"

_wont-fight-wont-fight-trust-you-help-me-for-luffy-luffy-luffy-_

"Okay." Kyra lets her eyes drift shut, locking in on the fiery soul that hovers so close she can almost catch the scent of woodsmoke."Ready?"

_yes-ready-ready-ready-get-back-to-luffy-luffy-thank-you-_

"Now!"

She gives a powerful mental yank at his soul. The body under her hands jumps as though shocked. Kyra bears down on the soul, forcing it to go where she wants it, forcing it to reconnect with its former home. His spirit jerks a few times in her grasp before going still, allowing her to do with it what she wishes. A heartbeat flares like an erupting volcano, strong and fierce. Pain sears her nerves wherever Ace's body rests as the last connection between soul and substance falls into place.

Kyra opens her eyes to real fire, actual flames, and the black eyes of Fire Fist Ace gazing up at her from a face wreathed in them. He is alive; it has worked.

He is also burning the ever-loving shit out of her.

**_"OW! SON OF A FUCKING BITCH, IT HURTS!ARRRRRRRGH!"_**

The newly resurrected human torch is thrown from the screeching mage as her shield abruptly drops. As fate would have it he collides with his brother, knocking the younger boy off his feet even as Kyra continues telling the world exactly how unpleasant third degree burns are.

**_"MOTHERFUCKER! THAT FUCKING BURNS!"_**

Law is at her side immediately, carefully examining her fried hands as whips of ebony magic lash out. Furrows are dug deep into the ground, spraying rocks and dirt everywhere. The Amazons and pirates are all pushed back by another transparent shield that pops up around captain and sorceress, protecting them from further attack. Kyra clenches her teeth hard around the agony in her limbs, meeting Law's scrutinizing gaze with watery eyes and notices that the sun is sitting low over the ocean. She has been working on Fire Fist Ace all day.

"Worked," she grits out, jerking her head in the direction of Straw Hat Luffy's jubilant repetition of his brother's name. The surgeon gives a single nod of acknowledgment before carefully scooping the burn victim up in his arms.

"We should at least bathe those in water before your magic heals them," he declares, striding over to the wall of the shield and lifting an eyebrow at her. The protective bubble immediately disappears. He carries her past the rest of the awestruck crew in the direction of the sub. "I believe I told you not to overdo it. Third degree burns count."

_"Fuck you!"_ Kyra hisses, biting her lip as he jostles her slightly.

Law grins at her. "That's a nice idea, but first we need to strip you so I can clean the burns on your thighs."

Arrogant bastard! Does he really think she intended to torch herself? Obviously he's never had these kinds of burns before, then.

He proceeds to put her down on an infirmary cot, carefully working the fabric of her ruined pants down until she sits before him in her panties and a tank top. She snarls at him, wanting badly to smack him around for that last comment. Sadly, her stupid magic has grown fond of the sadistic asshole, and with burns on her arms and legs she won't be able to do any damage. Kyra is forced to grit her teeth and bear Law's gentle ministrations instead of knocking him through a wall or two.

"I hate you," she mumbles once the burns have been cleaned and her powers have healed them. She is extremely uncomfortable with her captain standing as close as he is, betwixt her bare thighs with his hands on her hips. The embarrassed mage squirms slightly, groaning in both exhaustion and annoyance when Law's grip tightens. "I'm fucking tired, you jerk! Let go so I can go sleep on something more comfortable than your stupid hospital beds!"

"You have blood on your face," the doctor informs her dryly. "Unless you want to ruin your sheets you should probably take a shower before heading for bed." He lets go of one hip to fish a tiny flashlight out of the pocket of his jeans. "Look at this light."

Kyra tries not to squint as Law checks her pupils, growling at him in annoyance when he takes her by the chin and turns her head so that he can peer into her ear. Apparently satisfied with his examination, the captain once again scoops the girl into his arm, ignoring her very vocal protests as he carries her out of the infirmary towards her quarters. As soon as her feet hit the floor Kyra is opening the door and rushing in, closing it in Law's face even as he laughs.

"I expect you at dinner, Kyra. If you don't show up, I'll have to come wake you."

"Go _away!"_ she shouts at him, cheeks burning furiously at the half-joking promise in that deep voice. She darts into the bathroom and slams the door, effectively blocking out the man's continued laughter. Stripping off her shirt and undergarments, Kyra turns the water on hot and relaxes into the shower, deliberately not thinking about the absolute jackass who is her captain. She's got enough of a headache from the conversation with Fire Fist's soul; she does not need to make it worse by dwelling on Law.

Plus he'll probably find it extremely entertaining if he ever finds out Kyra has thought about him while in the shower. Fucking pervert.

She switches her thoughts to another topic: Fire Fist Ace. Third degree burns aside, Kyra is quite pleased with herself for the way things went. This was her first time bringing back a Devil Fruit user, and obviously the man's abilities were retained. It was her first time resurrecting someone after so long a period. She will have to ask Law to examine Ace to make sure he is physically mended. Barring any complications, Kyra is pretty sure she did everything right. Ace is the one-hundred-and-twenty-second person she has ever brought back from the dead. She wonders if it will always feel this good to give life rather than take it.

The exhausted sorceress doesn't bother with pajamas or underwear when she emerges from the shower. She crawls beneath her sheets bare as the day she was born and is asleep in seconds.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Trafalgar Law strokes a feather-light fingertip down the length of his magician's bare spine. He is careful not to wake her as he caresses the pink, gnarled scars that compose the skin of her back. They are slightly sunken, strangely soft, and very smooth. Kyra is so deeply asleep that the only sign of life is the steady rise and fall of her torso as she breathes. She is lying on her stomach, a pillow clutched to her chest and the covers shoved down around her hips. The whole of her back is exposed to Law's curious eyes, awash with moonlight from the small windows along the far wall.<p>

He has to wonder just how tired Kyra had been earlier, to go to sleep nude on a ship full of men. How tired must she still be, to not have jolted awake the moment the Dark Doctor stepped into her room or touched his skin to hers? He wonders how much whatever she was doing in that black dome earlier has taken out of her. Just how draining is it, bringing the dead back to life? Fire Fist Ace is in perfect health. Law has given the man a physical himself, fascinated by his magician's amazing ability. The heart, lungs, everything that had been incinerated is now in perfect working order. Fire Fist doesn't have so much as a scratch on him, nor does he remember anything between dying in his brother's arms and waking up in Kyra's lap.

The girl has literally performed a miracle. It wouldn't surprise him if she slept for a week.

Still, Law has to wake her. She has not eaten all day, has not had anything solid in her stomach for two weeks except those sandwiches yesterday afternoon. As a doctor, he refuses to let his crew hurt themselves by not getting the proper nutrients. Kyra needs to eat something. She can sleep all night afterwards. So deciding, the Surgeon of Death carefully works the girl's covers up to her shoulders, giving her the illusion of modesty before bending slightly and putting his mouth down by her ear.

"Kyra, it's time to wake up," he says, speaking in a firm, clear voice. She jolts slightly, muttering something under her breath before sinking back into unconsciousness. A grin spreads its way across the pirate's face; she's going to be stubborn, eh? That's alright - Law is stubborn, too. Crouching beside the bed, he reaches out and weaves his fingers into the riot of curls framing Kyra's face. He very gently eases her head over until they are almost nose to nose, so close he can count her eyelashes.

For a long moment, Law simply stares at his magician. She has a tiny scar next to her right eye. Both eyes sport dark bags beneath them that rival his own. Her nose is small and narrow, her lips full and almost pouty. She'd be quite the looker if not for her obvious exhaustion. He considers kissing the girl, fairly certain that would bring her awake with a delightfully amusing reaction. _What does she taste like?_ Law wonders.

He'll no doubt find out eventually.

"Kyra," he says again, slightly louder than the first time. She jerks again, her eyelids flickering as a grunt escapes her lips. Smirking widely, Law leans even closer so that he is speaking against her lips. "Time to wake up, my magician."

Kyra comes awake with a jolt, reflexively yanking back from him even as she curses wildly. Law removes his fingers from her hair to keep from hurting her as she rolls away from him, wrapping herself in her bedding and going right off the edge of the mattress to land with a thump on the floor. She is huddled in a corner almost immediately, magic shielding as though she fears attack. The surgeon rises smoothly from his crouch, grey eyes seeking blue in the dark room as he slowly rounds the bed and advances on the cowering girl.

"It isn't usually a good idea for a woman to sleep in the buff around so many men, Kyra," he informs her lightly, putting his hand against the shield that separates them. It sinks right through; he is able to pass by the protective surface as though it were not there. The expression on Kyra's face changes from bewildered fear to understanding in a heartbeat.

"Law? What the hell were you doing?" she croaks, voice heavy from sleep. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"I'm the captain," he reminds her teasingly. "I don't have to knock. You need to get dressed. I told you I wanted you at dinner, remember?"

Kyra groans, moving over to throw herself facedown on her bed. "Not hungry; I'm tired. Can't I just skip a meal? One missed dinner is surely not going to kill me."

The sadistic surgeon lightly runs a finger up the bottom of a bare foot. His magician yelps and reflexively kicks out at him before rolling over and sitting back up, a very unhappy glare on her face. She looks much like a petulant child who has just been told to eat her vegetables by a stern parent. The image makes Law's smirk deepen.

"You've only had a single meal in the past two weeks, Kyra. You're going to eat dinner; the sooner you accept it the sooner you can eat and then get some rest."

She visibly perks up at this, apparently excited that Law is going to allow her to return to the land of dreams soon. He watches as Kyra drags herself from the bed and shuffles over to her satchel, picking it up and going into the bathroom. The door shuts behind her, and her captain sits on the edge of the bed to wait for her. Kyra is not pleased by this when she exits the bathroom, wearing loose pants and a long-sleeved blouse. Law notices for the umpteenth time that his magician is not wearing anything on her feet; he recalls how she tossed all of the socks he provided back in his face that first day and wonders what the story is there. Instead of asking he rises to his feet and lopes over, slinging an arm casually around her waist and steering her towards the hallway.

"Something to eat and then back to bed with you," he says as they make their way into the galley. His necromancer simply grunts at him, letting him push her into a chair next to the snoozing figure of Bepo. The bear almost immediately jerks awake, gazing around rather blearily before noticing the girl sitting next to him.

"Hi, Kyra," Law hears his first mate say as he moves to the stove where a pot of soup sits simmering. It is fairly late, and the rest of the crew has already retired for the night. The surgeon has purposely waited to wake Kyra, figuring she would not be in the mood to deal with endless questions. Fire Fist Ace and Straw Hat Luffy have both been invited to spend the night in the Amazon's city, so they won't have the chance to bother her tonight. Neither will Silvers Rayleigh, who showed up about two hours ago to speak with Straw Hat and expressed quite a bit of interest in Law's magician after seeing that she managed to bring a dead man back to life.

He sets a large bowl of the hearty soup in front of her, sitting in his customary place at the head of the table while the girl stares at the broth as though hoping it will disappear if she wishes hard enough.

"Eat," Law commands gently. Kyra gropes for the spoon in the bowl and lifts it to her mouth, not bothering to blow on the steaming liquid. Her hand is shaking so badly that most of the food ends up spilling back into the bowl.

It takes an unusually long time for Kyra to finish her dinner. Twice she falls asleep mid-bite, jerking back to awareness via an elbow from Bepo or a nudge to the ankle from Law's booted foot. About three quarters of the way through she pushes her bowl away and shakes her head, leveling a flat stare at the Dark Doctor.

"Bed," she states in a monotone that has Law grinning again. Her attitude is rather endearing - not many people have the guts to act as she does around him. He stands and waits as the girl slowly gets to her feet, looking as though she will pass out at any moment. As the floors of the submarine are not carpeted and there is a good chance a nosedive into unconsciousness would lead to severe head trauma, the doctor takes it upon himself to ensure that doesn't happen by scooping Kyra up in his arms. True, the move has the added bonus of drawing a 'let me go, fucking jerk' from the unhappy girl; but for the most part it's for her own good. Bepo watches from the table as the pair exit the room, Kyra's head lolling onto Law's shoulder as she falls asleep again almost immediately.

He is uncharacteristically gentle as he sets his magician on her mattress, quickly gathering her discarded bedding from the bathroom and making sure she is sufficiently covered. He is amused when she rolls over immediately, grabbing a pillow to hug to her chest and mumbling incoherently. Sitting on the very edge of her bed, Law once again tangles his fingers in her abundant curls and strokes her scalp. There are scars here as well: a round one that feels almost like a burn; a long one that carves deeply into her skin; a jagged half-circle in the perfect spot for a lobotomy. The girl shudders under his touch but does not move away. A single rope of black magic slowly curls up the surgeon's arm, sinking through his hoodie to caress his skin. Law watches, fascinated, until it fades away.

A quiet knock at the door catches Law's attention. He looks around to see his first mate's fuzzy head poking timidly through the crack between door and frame, ears laid back against his head.

"Is she okay, Captain?" Bepo asks, his voice easily carrying across the quiet room. Kyra stirs slightly at the noise, grunting once before calming again.

"She'll be fine, Bepo. Go to sleep. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

"Aye, Captain."

The girl whose hair is tangled in Law's fingers jerks as the door shuts behind the bear. Blue eyes meet grey, glazed with tiredness and slightly unfocused. The Dark Doctor graces the sleepy girl with a rare genuine smile, stroking his fingers over her scalp in an effort to soothe her.

"Ace okay?" The question is so soft that even in the silent room Law almost misses it.

"Fire Fist Ace is fine. He's in perfect health. You can see him tomorrow before we leave if you want."

Clumsy fingers grope at his hand. He lets her extract it from her hair and watches as she prods at the tattoo across the back of it. "Need one of these. Is this your jolly roger?"

Law shakes his head, placing her hand against the design painted on the front of his hoodie. "This is."

The girl yawns widely, not bothering to fight him when he laces their fingers together as her eyes close yet again. "That, then. I need one of those. Tattoo for a Heart Pirate."

He lets his smile deepen, squeezing her small but deadly hand as she drifts off into slumber. So she wants a tattoo, does she?

He can help with that.

* * *

><p><strong><em>"THANKYOU!"<em>**

_It's too fucking early for this,_ Kyra thinks the next morning as she is crushed in the stretchy arms of Straw Hat Luffy. Law is standing off to the side with a smug little grin on his face. If only her magic would work against him - she'd be tossing him around right about now, see how amusing he'd find that.

Straw Hat screams into her ear, sobbing wildly on her shoulder as his resurrected brother tries futilely to peel them apart. "**_THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! YOU BROUGHT ACE BACK YOU'RE SO AWESOME THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!"_**

Ace finally pulls the boy away, much to Kyra's relief. If not for the fact that the bastard would tease her mercilessly, she would try hiding behind her captain so as not to risk being grabbed again. Rather than feed Law's enjoyment, however, the sorceress stuffs her hands in the pockets of her trousers and scowls at the ground.

"He doesn't mean to be such an idiot," Fire Fist offers apologetically. "It's just... how he is. Sorry about that."

Kyra shrugs as though the matter is unimportant, shooting her chuckling captain a glare. "What are you two planning to do now?"

"The old man's going to help my brother build up his Haki. I think I'll stay with him." Ace swallows audibly, eyes glossing slightly as he looks out to the sea. "With... Pops gone and all... I figure I should lay low for a while. I'll figure out some way to let the other guys know I'm okay, but I don't want to deal with the Navy anytime soon."

Kyra frowns at the mention of 'the old man'. That damn geezer from the slave auction had popped up here sometime after she crashed yesterday. The fossil had called her 'Sleeping Beauty' again, much to her annoyance considering her entire freakin' crew had been within hearing range at the time. They've been casually calling her 'Beauty' for the past hour and the mage is just about ready to kill someone. Thankfully the geezer's not around at the moment; the Pirate Empress had dragged him off at some point after shooting a weirdly hateful look in Kyra's direction.

"Weren't you planning on looking for your crew?" she asks Straw Hat, who is smiling so hugely that she's sure his cheeks would ache if not for the fact that he is essentially made of rubber.

"Yeah, but Ace and old man Rayleigh want me to get stronger first." Luffy pouts, either at the thought of not seeing his friends for a while or the implication that he isn't strong enough to hack it in the New World.

Kyra hums vaguely, shooting another glare in Law's direction that she has no doubt is more pleading than threatening. She's waiting for him to make up an excuse to get them out of here; maybe give her an order or something. The sorceress does not regret bringing Fire Fist Ace back from the dead or doing Straw Hat Luffy a favor, but this prolonged goodbye with two young men who are pretty much strangers to her is extremely awkward. The infamous surgeon grins at her, moving over to wrap his arm low around her waist and deftly dodging the elbow she jabs at him.

"I believe it's about time for my crew to depart," he drawls in a mock-polite tone that sails right over the heads of the brothers in front of them.

Ace immediately bows at the waist, the very picture of manners. "Thank you for looking after my little brother. I owe you a great debt, Captain Law."

Straw Hat smacks his brother on the back, nearly knocking the man over with his enthusiasm. "Yeah, yeah! Thanks a lot for saving me! You're a really nice guy, Law. But don't think that means I'm gonna let you get to One Piece before I do! I'm gonna get really strong, find my friends, and become the next Pirate King no matter what!"

Kyra can't help but smile at the boy's energy. He looks a thousand times better than the pathetic creature who had just two days ago thrown her into a wall because of his crippling sorrow at the loss of his brother. The smile is quickly transformed into a scowl when the mage is yanked into another rib-cracking embrace by the rubber imbecile. She is about to tell him to put her the fuck down, godsdammit, when he whispers in her ear, his voice low and quiet and sincere.

"Thank you, Kyra. You gave me back my brother. If you ever need anything, or if you change your mind and want a place on my crew, it's yours."

Ace says nothing as Luffy releases her. He merely catches Kyra's gaze and gives her a look that says more about his gratitude than words ever will. Kyra nods once in acknowledgement before turning and walking away, Law's arm still firmly around her waist.

Back on the sub, sitting on one of the horrendously uncomfortable infirmary cots as Law gives her a brief examination and the vessel sinks deeper and deeper into the sea, Kyra thinks about the love those two brothers share for each other and smiles. They are both good people; the world would be a better place if there were more like them. She has no doubt that someday they will be back in trouble, causing mayhem somewhere along with Straw Hat's crew and what's left of Whitebeard's. That pair is going to be a handful for the Navy when they make their comeback. Kyra's already looking forward to it.

"You seem to be fine," Law tells her as one of his hands comes up to toy with a curl of her hair. "Any soreness anywhere? Pain? Discomfort?"

"No."

"I don't want you missing any meals for a bit. You've lost quite a bit of weight you didn't need to when you were comatose. You'll come to me for weekly check-ups until I'm satisfied with your progress."

Her captain is a shameless worry-wart. Kyra doubts the Navy knows about this; it would make the ruthless and terrifying reputation of the Surgeon of Death seem a little exaggerated. She tilts her head back slightly in a futile attempt to free her hair from those tattooed fingers, scowling when Law grins at her.

"Why do I get the feeling you're fattening me up for slaughter, Law?"

"Very astute. Only you'll be the one doing the slaughtering."

She eyes him uneasily, not sure what to make of that statement. With him, you never know.

"Is my magician uncomfortable?" he asks in a smartass tone that just begs for him to be magically bitch-slapped. Kyra tries, not really expecting it to work but still annoyed when it doesn't.

"Is my captain a cuddle slut?" she snarks back, reaching up and yanking her hair away from him. "I'm not a fan of being touched, Law, so don't unless you want me to make you a eunuch."

The Dark Doctor merely grins, hooking a hand behind her head and holding her still as he leans in until they are almost nose-to-nose. Just as the sorceress is wondering what in the hell the man's doing, Law swoops to the side and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin right behind her ear. She flinches and yelps in surprise but can do nothing else. He lets go, leaving her feeling hot, violated, and something else that isn't quite so easy to recognize. The pirate is already at the door and her limbs feel strangely boneless all of a sudden.

"Bepo will collect you for lunch. You should get some sleep until then."

And he is gone, leaving Kyra absolutely bewildered and wondering what the _fuck_ has just happened.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer, but if you feel the need to flame because Ace is now alive again, make sure you send those comments to me and not him. It was my idea and I'll use your flames to make s'mores.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>"Will you stroke me, Kyra?"<p>

Kyra stares in disbelief at the bear, wondering if the creature has recently gone mad while around her nearly all of the Heart Pirates howl with laughter. "You want me to what, now?"

"Stroke me," Bepo replies calmly, tilting his furry head before turning to give the hysterical men a confused look. "Why are you all laughing?"

None of them answer, too busy choking on their mirth as Kyra tries very hard not to join in. Obviously the walking teddy bear doesn't think like the typical perverted human male and therefore has no idea why walking up to a woman and saying 'stroke me' would be a cause for hysterics. Poor Bepo is just asking to be humiliated with how naive he is.

Ruthlessly squashing the giggle lodged in her throat, the mage decides to clarify just to be safe. She's nearly positive that Bepo wouldn't proposition her, but stranger things have happened in her life.

No, really. They have.

"You want me to pet your fur?" Kyra asks, carefully rewording the bear's request. Bepo nods, clearly not understanding why she even has to ask.

"My fur gets itchy in this suit," he explains over the continued sounds of amusemenet from the men at the galley's table. "I'd ask the captain, but he'll be researching medical procedures again today and he doesn't like to be disturbed when he's... working..." Bepo fidgets before glancing back at his hysterical comrades. "Seriously, why are they laughing? What's so funny?"

"They're perverts who misconstrued your meaning due to the words you used to ask me to pet you," Kyra replies with a heroically straight face, pulling the tea kettle off the hot eye on the stove and pouring boiling water into her mug. "No big deal, just ignore them. They're going to laugh even harder when I ask if you'll have to take your clothes off."

Bepo opts to nod rather than shout over the increasingly noisy idiots crying with laughter and banging their fists against the table in a spasmodic manner. He takes the plate of lightly grilled fish from the sorceress with a nod of thanks before going to sit with those merry idiots as Kyra puts the finishing touches on the pancake mountain at her elbow. In the week since leaving Amazon Lily she has become the unofficial breakfast chef, as Neil apparently has issues with such foods and refuses to rise from bed before noon unless ordered to do so by his captain. Most of the men have gotten into the habit of meandering in sometime around ten just for her cooking. Levitating everything over to the tables always draws a handful of awed or amazed looks, but aside from the jilted cook no one has yet looked at her with disgust. Kyra doesn't know many names yet, and she does not go out of her way to seek the company of the crew; though for the most part they do not seem to have a problem with her.

It's probably the food. Everyone knows that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Law strolls in and seats himself as the mound of pancakes begins to distribute itself amongst the plates. He shoots a wicked smirk at Kyra as a mug of black coffee settles in front of him, butter smearing over his breakfast before it is drowned in syrup. She ignores him, digging into her portion with gusto as the rest do the same. Kyra refuses to deal with her captain overly long on an empty stomach.

The last week has sucked majorly because of the Dark Doctor. Since Kyra's magic no longer sees Law as a threat and she can no longer lash out at him with anything other than physical violence, the notorious pirate has taken it upon himself to annoy his single female crewmate whenever possible. Considering that he has decided to hold off on entering the New World for awhile and they have done nothing more interesting than drift lazily in the waters near Saboady Archipelago, this means he has harassed her almost constantly. Her only reprieve comes on the days Law shuts himself up in his infirmary with his giant medical books; Kyra hasn't gone near that damn room since leaving Amazon Lily and doesn't plan to do so anytime soon.

Law's foot grazes her calve, earning him a murderous glare which he smirks at. Quiet chuckles let Kyra know that the crew has seen her look and finds it amusing.

That's another thorn in her side: the damn crew gets great entertainment watching their captain and newest member interact. The fact that she is unable to magically get rid of the Supernova is a source of interest on the atrociously-colored submarine. Some of the men have picked up the habit of occasionally going out of their way to set up little scenarios that have Kyra stuck in Law's presence when she would much rather hide from him. Haru, the quiet and superstitious mechanic who is slowly starting to concede that Kyra isn't a walking bad luck charm, somehow insured that his captain procured a key that opens Kyra's door; she can't even keep the man out of her room now, since attempts to magically alter the lock against him have met with failure ever since. Thank the gods her magic has not yet deserted her when it comes to locking her bathroom door, or the insufferable surgeon would probably follow her in there, too.

And he's so gods-damned _touchy!_ Always 'accidentally' brushing those long tattooed fingers against her arms or face or hair, always finding a reason to twine his hands through her curls, always standing or sitting uncomfortably close. Ever since that... that... _kiss_ last week Law has been acting like Kyra's personal space exists only for him to breach it as often as possible. It's driving her fucking crazy.

"What plans does my magician have today?" Law purrs. Gods, she hates it when he does that. There's something about that tone of voice coming from him that just makes her feel weird, like dozens of tiny little feathers are brushing tantalizingly against her skin. And the possessive pronoun is kind of creepy, to be honest. Before she can make a snappy reply, Sachi speaks up from across the table.

"She's got a date with Bepo, Captain," the man says, grinning at Kyra in the gap beneath the bill of his poofy cap and over the top of the dark sunglasses he wears constantly. The rest of the table dissolves into laughter again as Kyra scowls and uses a careful whip of magic to jam the cap down low over Sachi's face. She shoots a hesitant glance at Law and almost cringes at the look he directs at her. The pleasant relationship between bear and sorceress amuses the hell out of captain and crew alike, which is seriously annoying. To her, anyway; Bepo doesn't really seem to care.

"I wouldn't want to interfere with that," Law teases, his foot once again brushing against her calve and moving up almost to her knee before she shifts away with a scowl. "So you'll come to the infirmary directly after breakfast for the weekly check-up we discussed."

Kyra almost chokes on her tea. Damn it, she's forgotten all about that. And what the hell does he mean 'discussed'? He ordered her to come find him for a check-up once a week until he's satisfied that she isn't going to drop dead because of the weight she lost after the war at Marineford, when she was in a coma for two weeks and stuck on a liquid diet. There was no discussion involved - Law gave her an order and then he _kissed_ her like she's some kind of godsdamn _hussy_ and he thinks he has a _right_ to, the fucker.

What if he tries to give her a shot again? Kyra breaks out in a cold sweat at the mere thought. How can she be sure what he might try to inject her with? Will her magic stop him from doing so? Will it still protect her? Can she protect herself if it doesn't? Oh gods, she can't go back in that fucking infirmary; he'll try something, she knows he will, she can't give him the chance. What should she do? Her room isn't secure anymore, this is Law's ship so he'll have keys to any of the doors that have locks on them, so where can she go to hide? Where can she go to be safe, where he can't get at her with his needles and his medicines and the toxins that burn like fire in her veins and the chemicals in her throat and _his hands_ -

Tanned fingers close firmly around the girl's wrist, snapping her back to reality as she realizes that she's managed to dump her tea all over her remaining pancakes due to the the tremors wracking her limbs. Law is speaking to her in a low, calm voice that doesn't quite reach her ears while the rest of the crew stares at her like she's some kind of freak. Even Bepo, sitting down the table with his specially grilled fish hanging tail-first out of his mouth, is looking at her oddly with those damnably hard to read features. Suddenly it feels like the room is shrinking on her, closing in until there is no space, no air for her desperate lungs, nowhere to hide from those eyes that watch her so fucking closely. She bolts to her feet, knocking her chair over and yanking her wrist out of Law's grasp as she hurriedly circles around behind him and practically runs for the door that will take her towards the hatch. Air. She needs air. She needs air and space and privacy and _oh shit_ she's going to puke.

Kyra kicks the hatch open and flings herself over to the railing, gagging up her breakfast over the side. Even when her stomach is empty she heaves, trying to drag all the air in the world into her aching lungs and absentmindedly tearing at the skin of her wrist where

the needles go in. There's one in there, she can feel it, it's _in there_ and it _burns_ and she _has_ to get it out.

She is suddenly jerked away from the railing and spun around, ending up facing her extremely displeased captain as he takes one of her wrists in each of his hands. This effectively stops her from getting _that thing_ out of her, and Kyra fights against his hold ferociously.

"Let go!" she shouts, desperate to free her hands, desperate to remove the needle in her vein. "Let go, please, I have to get it out! Let me go!"

"There is nothing there," Law replies coolly and calmly, squeezing her wrists tightly enough that she winces in pain. "Calm. Down. There is _nothing_ for you to be afraid of. There is _nothing_ on this sub that will hurt you. Calm yourself and take deep breaths."

"But the needle -!"

"There is no needle."

Kyra gapes at him. No needle? What the fuck is he talking about? It's right there, it's in her wrist, Law's fingers are right on top of it! Surely he can feel the cold metal just under her skin? Surely he can smell the toxins in her veins?

"What're you -?"

"Kyra," Law interrupts sharply, turning her wrist in his grasp so that she can see the skin she had been scratching at. "There _is_ - _no_ - _needle._ Do you see a bleeding hole in your wrist where a needle was inserted? Do you see a syringe still jabbed into your arm? There's nothing there. _Nothing."_

She stares at her wrist, at the smooth unblemished skin that's only slightly red from where her nails raked over it. No insertion site. No syringe. No blood.

No needle.

Law slowly releases her wrists. Without his iron grip holding her in place, Kyra is free to sink down into a sitting position and bury her face in her shaking hands. Gods, what's wrong with her? She was so sure... and it was nothing. She had freaked out, made herself sick to her stomach, probably scared the hell out of the rest of her crew, and for what? The mage wonders for a moment what her chances would be if she throws herself overboard and tries to drown before the extreme embarrassment currently looming over her manages to kill her.

She feels so pathetic right now. She's supposed to be horrifically powerful. She can kill people with a gesture. She can heal herself without even trying. She brings people back from the dead, for Roger's sake! Why can't she even breathe anytime needles are so much as hinted at in her presence?

"Fuck my life," Kyra groans into her hands, mortified at the thought that now she has to walk back into that damn sub full of her crewmates after making a complete ass of herself.

"Is my magician back to normal?" Law drawls, sounding somewhere between amused and... well, not worried, it's fucking Law after all, but maybe a tiny bit concerned.

"Is my captain going to be really, really awesome and help me commit suicide at some point in the next five minutes?" she practically whines as a reply.

"Suicide is the escape of cowards. I don't sail with cowards."

"Oh, come on!" Figures he's going to refuse. Why would the crazy pirate want to kill her when torturing her every day is so much more fun? Bastard.

Kyra finds herself being hauled to her feet, pressed against Law's side while he drapes an arm around her waist. She tries to shield a little, extremely uncomfortable with this closeness and almost whimpers when nothing happens. Shit, her captain has turned out to truly be a cuddle slut. She's been in this position so often in the last week her body almost naturally molds into Law's freakin' side. Her stupid magic has turned traitor, of course, so there's no escape once the Dark Doctor gets his hands on her.

"Check-up," Law states firmly, dragging her sluggishly resisting form back through the hatch. Fate has apparently decided to be nice today, as the kitchen is deserted except for Bepo cleaning up at the sinks. Kyra turns scarlet to the roots of her hair and very carefully does not meet the bear's gaze as she lets her captain lead her towards the most hated room in the sub. The door is closed behind her with an audible click.

Five seconds and she's already shaking again, eyes carefully trained on the floor. This is stupid. It's just Law being weirdly overcautious because she brought a dead guy back to life a day after waking from a two week coma. It's not _him._ It's not _that place._

Hands gently rub up and down her arms from shoulder to elbow and back. Law sets his chin in the crook between her neck and shoulder and whispers, "Deep breaths."

"Personal. Space. Jackass," she rasps, sucking in the ordered breaths and wiggling away from those hands at the same time. One of them presses gently but firmly into a section of her spine, steering her over to sit on the torture implements masquerading as beds.

Kyra can hear Law digging around a drawer somewhere at her back for a moment before he moves in front of her, a strange-looking contraption hooked into his ears under his fuzzy hat. The thing has some kind of length that trails from the ear pieces, ending in a metal circle that the surgeon holds in his fingers.

"What the hell are you going to do with that?"

Law gives her an odd look. "This is a stethoscope. Surely you've seen one before?"

Kyra bristles at the amused but wondering little grin on his face. "Whatever. Can we just get this over with? I hate this fucking room. I want to leave."

"Very well."

And the sadistic bastard proceeds to use his empty hand to pull her shirt up to practically her neck, a move which would leave her bare if not for the joys of a sports bra. The startled mage immediately smacks at him, amazed that her magic still won't help her out. Surely what he just did constitutes a threat? Law deftly catches her hands in one of his own, pinning them to her lap as he lays the cold metal circle against her sternum.

"Wha - wha - what the **_HELL_** are you _doing?"_ Kyra squeaks, face burning in mortification. Gods, can this day get any shittier?

"A stethoscope is a medical tool that allows me to listen to your heartbeat," Law explains oh-so-calmly, as though he isn't standing freakishly close to her with her shirt rucked up to her armpits and his hand almost touching her bre- _okay,_ that's enough of that line of thought. Kyra slams her eyes shut, trying to imagine herself elsewhere while her evil bastard of a captain laughs at her. After a moment, the feel of icy steel is removed; Kyra is just about to sag with relief when it reconnects with her back and startles a yelp from her.

"Deep breath."

She's getting really sick of him telling her how to breathe.

He listens to her lungs for a short period before allowing her to fix her shirt and putting the stethoscope away. She is relieved by this for all of three seconds before Law walks back up to her and wraps both hands loosely around the back of her neck, fingers entwined. It's so sudden that all she can think is... _'Choke me!_'

Panicking, the girl forces her magic to wrap around her and teleports herself to her room. Almost immediately she realizes her mistake, blinking out of existence again to appear on the deck before her captain can use his damn key to barge in on her. Once more Kyra finds herself gripping the sub's deck railing with shaking hands, body trembling and empty stomach roiling. He put his hands on her neck...what if he felt the scars under all her hair? She knows her incurably curious captain has not seen them before today, despite her state of undress when she woke up at Amazon Lily. If he had the sorceress has no doubt there would have been endless prying questions about their origin.

Fuck it all, that settles it: she's not going in that damn infirmary again short of a mortal injury.

Kyra freaks again when her head is gripped tightly from behind, her body slammed into the railing by the male frame at her back as her curls are ripped aside.

**_"Why_** -" - oh fuck he sounds pissed off beyond belief - "- _is someone's **name** carved into the back of your neck?"_

Shit.

Law yanks her around, tossing her up against the wall by the hatch and pinning her in place with a glare and arms on either side of her head. Kyra's fucking magic is completely rebelling now; try as she might she can't seem to teleport, which means she's trapped a scant few inches from her captain, whose face is twisted in a look of rage so potent it is terrifying. She is trapped and helpless and embarrassed and _scared,_ and if she cringes into the metal at her back any harder she's going to fuse with it.

"Answer me!" Law demands, but her terror has stolen her voice from her and all she can do is mutely shake her head.

Answer him? How is she supposed to do that? How do you tell someone that a man strapped you to a table, took a scalpel in his hands, and signed his name into your skin to mark you as his property?

_It's nothing, captain. A monster under the employment of the World Government just gave me a permanent autograph when I was twelve or thirteen because he's obsessed with me. Really, no big deal._ Right, that'll blow over real well.

He keeps her there for a long time, his eyes boring into her face while she gazes at the grinning Jolly Roger on the chest of his hoodie. She can't bring herself to look at his face, just knowing that if she meets his gaze she's going to find disgust hiding behind the rage. The frightened sorceress is unable to control a screech when the door jerks open behind her, pitching her forwards into Law and sending them both to the deck. In an instant she is off of him, scrambling to her feet and spinning around to see Bepo standing there with a truly terrifying snarl on his face and his nose twitching furiously. The bear whips his head around as though searching for something, turning and crouching defensively in front of his captain and the shaking mage now huddled in on herself.

"What's happening, Captain? Are we under attack? Is it the Navy? Captain?"

Kyra doesn't wait to hear the captain's reply. She bolts around Bepo and runs for her room, fighting a losing battle with the tears streaming down her face.

* * *

><p>M-E-R-R-I-C-K. Seven letters carved into the girl's flesh.<p>

Trafalgar Law sits in the dark galley on his submarine, feet propped up on the edge of the table and an unpleasant scowl on his face. The only light in the room comes from the tiny bulb over the stove, which Neil usually leaves on all night and which Law can't be bothered to turn off. He takes a swig from the bottle in his hands, having decided that he is in need of something a little different than coffee to put him to sleep tonight with his foul mood. Considering every time he closes his eyes he still sees that fucking name _carved_ into his magician's _skin,_ sleep is no doubt a long time coming.

He knows that she has many blemishes. He has seen her back, so corded with scar tissue that no normal healthy skin remains. He has seen the marks on her legs, which look like nothing less than spots where acidic chemicals have been allowed to drip onto her skin. He has run his fingers over her scalp and felt the evidence there as well, but this...

Kyra is _Law's_ magician; she shouldn't have some other man's name permanently sliced into her, even though it's blaringly obvious from her reactions that the marking wasn't voluntary. He would quite like to find this... _Merrick_ person, and perhaps carve a few things into him. Surely the infamous Surgeon of Death can cook up a few enjoyable tortures that he and Kyra could take turns inflicting on the man who has dared lay claim to something that belongs to him. It doesn't matter that the scar is several years old and was applied before Kyra had ever become Law's - she is now, and he takes exception to his things being marked with someone else's name.

Maybe he can convince his magician to get that tattoo of his Jolly Roger she has asked for over this other man's name. He can numb the area so it won't hurt as much, since the scar goes right up the length of the neck until just under her hairline and stops barely above her shoulder blades. A tattoo right there without some kind of general anesthetic would hurt like a bitch. Although, it would be an excellent way to test Kyra's level of pain tolerance...

"Can I have some of that?"

The Dark Doctor looks up to see the cause of his mood standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of long flannel pants and a baggy shirt. Her curls are comically mussed, as if someone has purposely ruffled them into chaos or she's been tossing around in her bed. Those bags under her eyes look particularly dark on her pale face in the scant light from the single tiny bulb. This is the first he has seen the girl since the fiasco of a check-up; she'd shut herself up in her room afterwards, hiding in her bathroom and refusing to come out even for lunch or supper.

Law jerks his head, indicating that she should come in and sit.

Kyra collapses into the chair she always sits at, folding her arms on the table and letting her head fall onto them with a thunk. "Can't sleep either, huh?"

He does not answer her question, instead choosing to place his bottle of saké next to her elbow. "Nightmares?"

Her laugh is completely without humor. When she raises her head and looks at him, the surgeon notes the slightly glassy quality of her eyes and knows he is right without her having to say a word. Kyra grabs up the liquor and takes a healthy gulp, scooting it back over to him once she's done.

"You've mentioned that it's stupid to drink alone," she mutters.

"I'm flattered that you remember," he teases, smirking at the dark look she shoots him. Law does so enjoy teasing this woman. He is always guaranteed to extract an amusing reaction out of her, and now that he doesn't have to worry about being strangled or thrown through the walls by her powers, the risks are almost nonexistent.

"I remember plenty of stuff I'd like to forget," the girl retorts glumly, wiping the grin from her captain's face. Yes, with all those permanent marks on her skin he can imagine what kind of 'stuff' she would like to purge from her memory.

"We'll be diving in the morning," he informs her. "You may come with me to explore once we get to Fishman Island." This is a blatant attempt to change the subject, but Law doesn't care. He knows that Kyra doesn't exactly want to continue the previous line of conversation anyway, so it's a win-win. "I want you with me in the control room tomorrow as well. We might need that shield of yours if we run into any problems once we get deeper into the sea. Can you create a shield around a large object like this sub and maintain it while we move?"

Kyra nods in the affirmative but makes no verbal reply. She is staring off into space with a rather pinched look about her. Whatever she's thinking about is obviously not pleasant, and Law wonders what exactly her nightmares tonight consisted of.

"Who is Merrick?"

The question is out of his mouth before he even bothers to consider the ramifications. It seems as though his time spent treating the idiocy known as Monkey D. Luffy has had an adverse affect on him. Or the booze he's consumed may have tampered with his brain-to-mouth filter a little, one or the other. Words spoken cannot be taken back, however, so Law has no choice but to deal with the consequences of his thoughtless question.

He doesn't have to wait long. His magician bolts up from her seat, eyes flashing even in the poor lighting as the walls tremble ominously. She strikes out at him, her fist coming to within inches of his nose before he grabs her wrist to stop her. Water sprays around the room as the faucet in the sink suddenly shoots off. At the same time the cupboards all swing open and fling their contents to the floor. The other hand soon makes an attempt on his person, only to be thwarted so that Law finds himself sitting in his galley with a furious woman looming over him, both wrists locked in his grip. Kyra tries to pull back; Law twists her around, yanking her down and caging her in his lap, back against his chest as she snarls like an animal. He keeps her pinned, trapped in a parody of a bear-hug until she sags against him with a hiccupping sob. The galley is by this time a total catastrophe - canned food and water and shattered dishes have been thrown everywhere, and the light above the stove has gone out.

The girl in his lap is soft and fragile, trembling against him soundlessly as the pirate holds her to him. He puts his face in her hair and inhales deeply, savoring the scent of lavender and steel that assails him.

"Stop that!" Kyra commands, her voice shaking just as badly as the rest of her body. "Don't ask questions about _him,_ don't treat me like a fucking possession, don't touch me! I don't fucking belong to you, jackass! I'm not your - your -"

She flounders, obviously looking for a terrible enough description before snapping, "I'm not your next fucking whore!"

Law ignores this, mostly because he absolutely _hates_ being ordered around and she's just given him several orders as though she were the captain. It would appear that it is necessary for him to remind her of her place on this sub. He doesn't intend to hurt her - much - but there is no reason he can't frighten her a little bit while having some fun himself.

Sadly, that thought has barely crossed his mind before that shield pops up between them so strongly that it knocks Law's chair over as it forces him to release the girl. He hits the floor while Kyra throws herself away from him, not stopping until she's crouched in a corner on the other side of the table with her head in her hands. The bottle of saké is, regrettably, smashed on the floor next to the horizontal pirate captain as he blinks white spots from his eyes.

"Oh, finally!" Kyra moans from her corner an instant before she teleports in that bizarre way of hers, disappearing as though she were never there and leaving Law alone on the floor in the wrecked galley.

* * *

><p>Kyra huddles in a corner in her room, clutching a pillow to her chest and shaking. Her magic swirls around her, tendrils reaching out to stroke and caress at her bare skin. It has saved her yet again, coming back to her command at last the way she has hoped that it would.<p>

_Protect you. You are safe. He will not hurt you._

She clutches the pillow closer and fights back tears. Gods, Law had her in his lap, he could have done anything, raped her, killed her -

_He will not hurt you._

Well he sure as shit hadn't been trying to sing her a fucking lullaby -

_You misunderstand. His. You rebelled. He wants your submission. His._

No! She doesn't belong to anyone, dammit!

_You are his. He is yours._

Law is a freakin' monster. No better than _him._ They all want the same thing, he doesn't give a shit about her, he just wants her powers, he's dangerous and she's going to bail the first chance she gets. Kyra should have just taken Straw Hat Luffy up on his offer and stayed with him. At least Straw Hat is too naive for the kind of things Law could and probably will try to do to her. As soon as they hit the first island in the New World, as soon as they get to a place where the World Government and their Navy dogs won't be able to find her, she's leaving this damn sub and disappearing.

Gods, how can she be so stupid? Kyra has allowed herself to start trusting Trafalgar Law, she's grown close to his fucking pet bear, his whole damn crew is in love with her breakfasts, and she let her guard down around the man! He's a man! A pirate! You can't let your guard down around men! You can't trust them! How could she have forgotten even for a minute what happened to her the last time she put her trust in a man? Did those six years of torture and experimentation really fail to permanently brand that into her brain?

She's such a fucking idiot.

_No. Just his. Need him._

And the little voice she's come to associate with her magic has apparently gone bat-shit insane, too.

_Not like them. Not like **him.** Your captain will keep you safe. Stay with him. Trust him. Let him in._

NO! She can't do that! She's going to leave at the first New World island come hell or high water!

_Scared. Overreacting. Stay with them. Stay with your captain. All but the jilted one will protect you now. Stay._

Oh gods, her freakin' magic is practically crushing on Law. She's so screwed.

The door to her room creaks as it is cracked open. Kyra lifts puffy eyes to see Bepo's head peeking around the door, staring at her with his nose once again furiously twitching. The bear cautiously steps into her room and softly closes the door behind him. He looks different - he is not wearing the orange jumpsuit she always sees him in, nor the boots usually wedged on the set of paws he actually walks on. More than ever he looks like what he is: a talking polar bear that walks around on its hind legs.

Kyra doesn't move or ask him what the hell he's doing waltzing into her room in the middle of the night. She just lowers her head to hide her face in the pillow she's squishing in her grasp. She doesn't give a shit what the bear wants. Maybe if she ignores him he'll go away.

But no. Of course that isn't what happens. When does anything go the way Kyra wants it to go?

She stiffens all over when furry limbs lift her up and cradle her to a warm, non-human body. A deep rumbling is rolling out of Bepo's chest as he sits back down with her in his lap, almost like the sound a cat makes when it purrs. He sits with his back against the wall and arranges her in his lap so that when he lowers what are actually his front legs, they intersect firmly over Kyra's torso from shoulders to hips. She finds herself being pressed back into soft, warm white fur that seems to engulf her from all sides.

"You don't have to be scared," Bepo informs the shocked mage, whose magic has apparently decided to go on holiday again already seeing as how she's sitting in the lap of an animal that could probably swallow her whole. "Captain won't let anything happen to you. He looks out for his crew. He'll keep you safe."

"What are you doing?" she squeaks out, halfway between terrified and dying from happiness. Her inner child is squeeing with glee at being held by the giant talking teddy, but another part of her is just waiting to be eaten and or mauled.

"You need to sleep. You haven't gotten any sleep since we left that island with all the women. You drift off for a few hours and then have a nightmare and don't go back to bed." Bepo rattles all of this off in a calm voice, as though it isn't strange in the slightest that he should know this when the rest of the crew doesn't. "It's not good for you. Captain doesn't sleep much, but you don't stay awake all the time by choice. If I'm here to keep the nightmares away, will you try to sleep more? I know you're scared, but you smell funny because you're always so tired and if Captain's taking us to Fishman Island tomorrow like he planned then you'll need lots of sleep tonight. I can lay down and you could use me as a pillow? Captain takes naps on me all the time. I wouldn't mind."

The mental image of the Surgeon of Death snuggled up with this giant teddy bear, snoring away with a thumb securely in his mouth, is almost enough to make Kyra smile. Her body relaxes almost of its own accord, simply too tired to fight anymore. Bepo is right, she hasn't had more than a couple hours of real sleep since leaving Amazon Lily and the insomnia on top of finishing her recovery from the war at Marineford has zapped her. She's exhausted, her mind is frazzled, and it's getting harder and harder every day to think straight. Every time she closes her eyes, she's back with _him_ in his labs, needles in her arms and scalpel cutting into her as he strokes her skin and laughs.

_I'll be looking for you too, lovey. Watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. And when I find you... and I **will** find you... I will never let you go again. You're still mine, lovey. You will never escape from me. Remember that, lovey dearest..._

How is Kyra supposed to sleep with _that_ hovering over her head?

The sorceress can feel sleep pulling at her now. Her eyelids droop with fatigue until only slits are visible beneath them. She hazily bends her elbow so she can grip a handful of Bepo's fur, holding onto the bear almost desperately.

"Don't leave me alone," she rasps, right on the edge of unconsciousness. The bear rumbles against her back, tightening his hold slightly.

"I won't. Just go to sleep, okay? You'll need it for tomorrow. Go to sleep."

And Kyra does, nose-diving into blissful oblivion with a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>Law very quietly eases open the door to his magician's chambers, stepping in and gently sealing the portal shut behind him. The slight chill in the room brings goosebumps to his flesh as he is dressed only in the long lounge pants he sleeps in, leaving his arms and chest bare. Movement in the corner on the other side of the empty bed draws his attention to Bepo, sitting on the floor with someone snuggled in his lap. Grinning faintly,the Dark Doctor moves to sit on the edge of the mattress, running long fingers through his naturally messy hair as he takes in the cute little picture before him. Kyra is dead to the world, curled up against Bepo with one of her hands tangled in a fistful of fur and the other crushing a pillow to her chest.<p>

"It's like she's hibernating, Captain," Bepo tells him in a rumbling whisper. His point is proven when the girl doesn't so much as twitch at the noise, merely continues to draw the even breaths of oblivion.

"I need her awake. If she doesn't clean up the mess she made in the galley last night before Neil gets up, he's likely to come in here and try something foolish." Law's voice is just as quiet as his first mate's and garners the same reaction from the subject of the conversation.

Bepo shifts ever so slightly. It takes a moment before his captain realizes that the bear is now almost hiding Kyra from view with the way his limbs are positioned, and the low vibration in his ears is doubtlessly a growl. If not for the fact that he knows Bepo would never growl at him in such a manner, he would be quite angered at this reaction.

"He smells dirty around her, Captain," the shy bear mumbles. "He's mean to her even though you told him to leave her alone. Kyra never says anything about it, but she doesn't like being near him."

Law sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face and wishing he had put his hat on before leaving his own room. He feels curiously bare without it, incomplete, and unable to focus on what exactly he should do about his chauvinistic cook disobeying his orders in regards to the girl yet again. He is the Surgeon of Death. He is more than capable of being cold, or merciless, or outright ruthless when the occasion calls for it. His crew knows perfectly well what the penalties are for continued disregard of orders, be they mundane or a matter of life and death. Neil is one of the men who have been with him from almost the start; he's had longer than most to accustom himself to the iron hand with which Law runs his crew. This repeated disobedience is unacceptable. Punishment of some form will have to be distributed lest the other men start to wonder if their captain is growing soft.

He will deal with his cook later. Right now he has a magician to wake up. Sliding off his perch on the mattress, Law squeezes between the wall and Bepo's shoulder before carefully slipping his fingers into Kyra's curls. Bepo promptly shifts again so that he can poke the girl in the ribs with a claw, earning a grunt from her as she starts to rouse.

"Kyra, Captain wants you to wake up," the bear informs his drowsy crewmate, who lifts her head rather blearily and attempts to look around. Her efforts are hampered by the fingers in her hair. Law carefully eases her head back so that she is forced to meet his eyes, not missing the way her entire body goes rigid when she sees him standing so close. He smirks at her, male ego slightly pleased that she feels so threatened by his proximity.

"You made a bit of a mess last night in the galley, Kyra," the doctor intones, watching the way her pretty blue eyes widen slightly before narrowing.

"Fine. I'll go clean it up now," Kyra replies, sounding rather subdued as she carefully extracts herself from Bepo's lap and Law's grasp. True to her word, the girl marches from the room without bothering to change out of her pajamas beforehand, leaving her bedroom door open after she exits. Law and his trusty first mate follow her to the ransacked galley, where she moves to stand by the table and surveys the damage. After a quick scan of the room, the pirates watch from the doorway as the magician raises a single hand and makes a wide sweeping gesture with that arm, looking tired and vaguely upset but not the least bit put-upon by the disaster zone she has to clean.

It becomes apparent why a scant second later. As soon as her arm has been swung through the air, things begin to lift from the floor and return themselves to their proper places. Dishes mend themselves while whisking back into their cabinets. Dented cans of food are as good as new when they land on vacated shelves in the cupboard. The spigot for the sink, which had shot through the air the night before along with a fountain of water that has long since dried, reattaches itself with barely a squeak. In less than a minute the galley is once again restored to its usual spotless condition, with even the busted light over the stove winking on for a few moments before Kyra walks over and switches it off. The girl sighs, running a hand through her hair as she glances in Law's direction.

"Anything else you need right this moment, Captain?" She sounds neither snarky nor sarcastic as she asks, merely half asleep and uncaring. Law notices that she is refusing to meet his eyes now that he isn't forcing her to, but brushes this off as unimportant.

"Not at the moment," he replies calmly, moving into the room and seating himself in the usual spot. Kyra apparently takes this as a dismissal and rather quickly leaves the room, sliding past Bepo with a muttered thanks. The fluffy creature turns to watch the girl retreat back to her room, not saying anything until she is well out of sight.

"She talks in her sleep, Captain."

Law studies the bear, his curiosity sparked. "What does she say?"

"Last night she kept talking to her mother. Something about someone calling her evil and not wanting to go back. She kept apologizing, saying she hadn't meant to kill him and asking her mother to forgive her." Bepo wrinkled his black nose as though smelling something unpleasant. "She cried a lot in her sleep, too. I'd hug her or growl a little and she would quiet down and grip my fur tighter. Last night's the first time since we left that woman island that she's gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep. I'm worried, Captain. Is there anything we can do?"

Law shakes his head. "I'm not a pyschologist. All we can do is keep an eye on her. Hopefully the nightmares will fade eventually. I don't want to give her sleeping pills; oftentimes all that accomplishes is trapping the patient in their nightmares and doing more harm than good. I'll see what I can find in my medical journals about treating insomnia, but I doubt there will be much there."

Bepo practically wilts, instantly depressed. "Yes, Captain."

The bear ambles off soon afterwards, leaving Law alone in the galley for a period of silent pondering before his magician stumbles back in with a muffled curse. Her arm seems to be stuck, bent at an odd angle as she tries to push it through the sleeve of the shirt she's wearing. Her wet locks are even more mussed than usual, probably from being hastily toweled to a reasonable dampness. Finally getting her arm to cooperate, the girl straightens her clothing and goes to the massive refrigerator without so much as a glance in her captain's direction, obviously unaware that he is still in the room.

Law dislikes being ignored almost as much as he loathes being ordered around. Smirking mischievously, he rises from his seat and quietly crosses to stand behind Kyra as she bends to rummage amongst the food, her whole head stuck inside the fridge. Bending with her, he puts his lips right next to her ear and whispers, "What are you looking for?"

He has to jerk back to avoid her head smacking into his chin as she straightens with a yelp, banging her crown in the process. Kyra snaps upright and whirls, eyes black as night. She pauses when she sees him, glowing orbs slowly returning to their natural color while the girl scowls.

"Eggs," she answers shortly, turning back to the fridge and reaching in to grab the carton of eggs off one of the shelves. Kyra has to back up to close the door, bumping into Law's bare chest as she does so and immediately going stiff as a board. The Dark Doctor grins, waiting for her to snap at him to back off or maybe to strike out at him with fists and magic. It is therefore rather surprising when she says nothing, merely steps sideways and pivots around him to head for the stove. Law's grin grows wider at this new turn, and he opens his mouth to say something only to be interrupted.

"When are we diving, Captain?" Kyra asks, crouching down to pull a skillet out of one of the bottom cabinets. Deciding that he would rather not risk a head injury if she swings the iron cudgel at him, Law retreats to the table and sits once again.

"After breakfast. It should only take a few hours to reach Fishman Island, barring unforeseen catastrophes. Don't forget that I want you in the control room with me."

His magician pauses with two eggs in hand, in the process of cracking them into a large bowl. "The cook won't be in there, will he?"

Law's lazily lidded eyes narrow at this question. Why is she asking about Neil? "Has he been bothering you?"

Kyra shrugs, focusing once again on the food cooking before her. "He's a prick. If I can avoid being stuck in a room with the man while attempting to keep us all from getting eaten by monsters, that would be great. If not then I'll deal with it."

That is not an adequate answer. This is the second time already today that Law has heard of Neil recently pestering the girl and he wants details. "Elaborate on the part where you called my cook a prick."

Kyra carefully flips the sizzling eggs as she replies. "Oh, I'm sure you've noticed that the guy doesn't like me. He's gone to a lot of trouble to make sure I'm also very aware of that fact. Mostly he's just a mouthy little bastard. 'Women can't cook worth shit', or 'women belong under a man, not next to him,' and he thinks all the stories about how dangerous I am are bullshit. He's convinced that the only reason you brought me here is so you can have a ready whore whenever you want one and a quick way to bring any of your guys that croak back to life. I think he's hoping that once you get tired of me you'll let him have me for a while."

Law is starting to get very, very unhappy. "Define 'mostly'."

His magician immediately clams up. The meal is prepared in silence, with Law watching from the table until place settings float over, at which time he leaves briefly to dress and retrieve his sword. The surgeon watches Kyra closely all throughout breakfast, during which time she speaks to Bepo or the few crewmembers who address her but ignores him with a vengeance. This does not improve his poor mood, but he refrains from overtly harassing her for the moment and spends the time concentrating on his meal. Once his crew has consumed the food and the mess has been cleared away, the Dark Doctor moseys over to his magician and slings an arm low around her waist. He uses this leverage to gently propel her in the direction of the control room, blithely ignoring her glare. One finger is stealthily inserted under the hem of her loose shirt, drawing a slight flinch from the girl when skin meets skin. Kyra mutters something sounding suspiciously like 'touchy bastard' under her breath as the pair enters the control room, but does not attempt to distance herself from her captain.

The bridge is currently empty but for Gable, who is hunched over a set of charts muttering to himself, and Neil. The cook is sitting off in a corner, gazing into space and looking half asleep. Law is somewhat surprised to see him, as it is still fairly early in the morning and Neil is not in the habit of rising before noon unless ordered to do so because of an emergency. These thoughts are derailed to be replaced by his earlier irritation when his magician comes on guard at the sight of the cook, a scowl marring her pretty features as she finally moves out of Law's reach to stand with her back against the wall directly to the right of the door. Neil rouses from his daydreaming and spots Kyra, a somewhat disturbing grin lifting the corners of his lips.

"Breakfast over then, girlie? Wanna come sit? My lap's awful cold, I would love it if you could warm it up for me." He pats his thighs in an inviting manner while leering at the girl, apparently unaware of the look Law is directing at him. This will never do, of course, so the irritated surgeon speaks up.

"Neil."

Neil's head immediately snaps in his captain's direction, face noticeably paling when he gets a good look at the Supernova's expression. It's obvious he failed to notice Trafalgar's arrival. "C-c-captain!"

"Leave her alone," Law orders, his voice icy cold. Neil flinches, possibly from the intensity of his captain's glare or from the chill in his captain's voice. "Don't make me repeat myself again. Do you understand?"

The cook nods, apparently unable to speak at the moment as he swallows convulsively.

"Out."

Neil is halfway down the hall before the word fades from the air in the control room, Kyra peering out the door watching him flee with a surprised look on her face. She turns back once the cook is out of site, raising an eyebrow at Law while looking vaguely impressed.

"Damn, Law. You've got him absolutely scared shitless of you. What's your secret? I figured he'd be afraid of me after that first time I threw him across the galley, but that doesn't seem to have worked. I don't really want to kill him, since he's your underling and I'm not usually in the habit of killing pirates unless they try to off me first. You got some kind of technique you use to terrify people?" she asks, sounding perfectly serious. The Surgeon of Death smiles charmingly at her, amused by her reaction.

"Now where would be the fun in telling you the answer to that?" he mocks her teasingly, strolling over to the captain's chair and plopping down. "Don't worry; I'll be here to protect you until you figure it out. Gable?"

Over Kyra's indignant sputterings, the navigator replies with a slightly distracted "Yes, Captain?"

"It's time to dive. Inform the crew and take us down."

"Aye, Captain."

"Kyra, now is as good a time as any to put up a shield around the sub. I'd rather not take any chances at getting surprised by a Sea King."

His magician mutters something too low for him to hear, but a translucent shield immediately spreads out in front of him. He watches through the wrap-around observation window as the protective bubble extends roughly twenty feet beyond the sub before stopping, hovering over his craft with nary a ripple. Gable putters around the room, altering this and turning that until the sub slowly begins to move. They go forward a ways, picking up speed until they are fairly cutting through the water. Once the navigator is satisfied with their speed the vessel sinks beneath the waves, protective bubble still wrapped around it.

Law smiles, immensely satisfied to be below the surface once again. This is where he belongs, here in the growing gloom and the silent emptiness. The depths of the sea fill him with a quiet pleasure unattainable anywhere else. If not for his crew's need for fresh air and sunlight, the Dark Doctor would happily spend every moment of every day for the rest of his life submerged. Bepo once said that Law would have been much more content with his life had he been born a merman or some type of dangerous fish; that way he would not have to be seperated from the sea by the thick steel walls of his sub, but could become one with the waters that he has long called his home. The Four Blues, the Grand Line, the New World - wherever it may be, the sea is the sea, and it is there that Law is at peace.

Neither Gable nor Kyra says anything as they sink further and further, any light penetrating the water slowly growing fainter the deeper they go. Law watches with interest as Sea Kings of all sizes bounce off of his magician's shield like they ran into a brick wall, with no visible damage done to the shield no matter how large the offending monster. Deep under the surface, the sub passes through a valley of underwater volcanoes that should have made the temperature skyrocket; nothing happens. He remembers what she said about nothing being able to penetrate it, not men or bullets or cannon balls, and is pleased to see proof that she had not been exaggerating.

"What are your plans once we reach Fishman Island, Kyra?" he asks her lazily after several hours of silent travel, slouched low in his seat with his hands folded over his belly. There is a pause before the girl replies, her confused and slightly wary voice when she does so explaining why.

"I don't know. I guess I'll go wander around? How long are you going to stay here?"

He shrugs, not particularly worried about setting up a schedule for this trip. "Don't worry about it. I'm not going to leave you behind. In fact -" - and here Law grins to himself, knowing just how receptive to this idea his magician is going to be - "- I think I'll just join you. Ladies shouldn't be walking around an unfamiliar place unescorted, after all. I'd hate for you to get lost or hurt."

"Fucker," Kyra mutters, just a little too loudly for Law to miss it. His grin grows wider at her predictable annoyance.

This is going to be a rather enjoyable trip.

* * *

><p>This is going to suck majorly.<p>

Kyra grits her teeth in annoyance and pain, the headache that started hours ago pounding with the beat of her heart as that annoying bastard Law speaks to his men. Her discomfort comes from the fact that the aforementioned bastard has taken the liberty of once again slinging a possessive arm low around her waist, his tattooed fingers worming their way beneath her shirt and stroking absently at her skin. The fucking cook has noticed, of course, and is currently leering at Kyra from his place amongst the rest of the crew where he listens to his captain warn them not to do anything stupid.

They have finally arrived at Fishman Island, completely unscathed owing to Kyra's magical intervention. As thanks she has been given what might be turning into a miniature migraine and the promise of Law's constant company while she wanders around the island. She's starting to wonder if she shouldn't have just let one of the numerous monsters between Saboady and this underwater haven eat the damn sub - death being preferable to the Dark Doctor's exclusive company after the shit he tried to pull last night.

Well, if she's doomed to be stuck in the man's presence then she's at least going to get rid of the literal headache. Coating one hand in white healing magic, the cranky sorceress puts her palm to her forehead and concentrates on soothing the feeling of a dozen clubs simultaneously beating her over the noggin. The relief is instant and wonderful, pulling a sigh from Kyra's lips that has Law's attention shifting to her. She glares at him, attempting to step out of his hold and failing for the umpteenth time as he smiles.

"Eager to explore are we, my magician?" he asks. The crew actually titters like idiot girls at his pet name for her, sounding distinctly unmanly for a group of bloodthirsty pirates.

"I would be if it weren't for you, bastard," is Kyra's sullen reply, followed by a scowl at the ensuing laughter. In response the hats of every crewmember are all abruptly jammed down hard over their faces, drawing more than a couple of surprised yelps as the blinded men fight to lift their stuck headwear. Law simply grins as he pushes his furry hat back into its proper position, his fingers beating out a random rhythm against her side.

"Dismissed, men," he says to the gathered crew, waving them off with his free hand. "Have fun."

Everyone immediately bolts with shouts of joy. Only the giant man called Jambarl and the lead mechanic Haru are to remain on the sub, having volunteered to do so in order to keep watch while their crewmates go exploring. Neither man is inclined to join in, and so took the lookout job with no regrets. Kyra wonders briefly as she is shepherded off the sub whether Law will allow her to stay behind if she says she's changed her mind about exploring. From the possessive way he's got her pressed up against his side, she sincerely doubts it. At least Bepo is still here; the quiet polar bear walks on her side opposite from Law, carrying his captain's nodachi in his paws and looking around the strange subsea island in gape-mouthed awe.

Kyra can't blame him for such a reaction. The place is amazing, not least because of the sky above them with its clouds drifting lazily on a nonexistent breeze. Fishman Island is one-hundred thousand meters below the surface - how the hell is there a sky at all? And light? The place is as sunny as the area around Saboady where the Heart Pirates have floated for the past two weeks. Considering this island is sitting on the ocean floor, that fact is rather cool.

The people bustling around them as the trio moves deeper into the island are weird yet fascinating. Everyone seems to be in a hurry to get to their separate destinations, rushing around with their heads lowered and their eyes fixed to the ground as though afraid to make eye contact with anyone else. Tiny mer-children perched on bubbles like those on Saboady are dragged along behind their fishman mothers, with miniature fishmen hustling to keep up with bubble-riding mermen fathers. Law cuts a lazy path through the small crowd, going in a seemingly random direction as Kyra and Bepo follow silently after him. Everyone rushes to get out of his way as though terrified of him.

"Where should we go first, Kyra?" the captain inquires calmly, not seeming to notice the looks others are giving him as he moseys along.

"You pick," Kyra replies shortly, eyes darting around in search of threats. She doesn't understand why these people are acting like this. Why are they so afraid of the three pirates? Surely pirate crews are a regular fixture to Fishman Island - the place is the only way for anyone to enter the New World. What's the big deal?

As if on cue a scream pierces the tense air, sending the mixed crowd on the street near the docks into a panicked frenzy. In seconds the area resembles a ghost town, not a living soul in sight aside from the three Heart Pirates. Bepo moves closer to Kyra, knocking into her and pushing her over until she is pressed against Law's side. The surgeon loses no time in pulling her closer still with the arm that seems to always be slung low around her waist, squeezing her across the belly until she huffs at the tightness. Unsure what is going on, uncomfortable and very aware of the rumbling warning growls rolling out of the bear's chest, the sorceress cautiously throws up a shield to offer an unbreakable layer of protection. Law's grip loosens slightly once the shield has surrounded them, his head cocking curiously to the side as another cry for help tears through the otherwise silent area.

From out of a dark alley a short ways in front of them comes a group of men, dragging what is plainly a young mermaid between them. The pretty blond fantasy screams and cries as the men hustle closer, thrashing around in a fruitless attempt to free herself. The men are clearly pirates, all of them wearing matching bandanas with the same Jolly Roger.

"Someone help me! Please! I don't want to be a slave!" the mermaid wails, her blue tail wiggling wildly in spite of the two different pairs of arms wrapped around it.

Without stopping to think, Kyra raises a hand and sweeps it in a flourishing 'come here' gesture. The screeching beauty is instantly yanked from the grasps of her captors and brought floating through the air, passing through the mage's shield and coming to a stop resting gently in her arms. The kidnappers stare with their jaws dragging the ground in awe. A slight nudge of an elbow to his ribs is enough to have Law release her, allowing her to bend and carefully set the weeping mermaid on the ground. Stepping over the girl, Kyra passes through her shield and immobilizes the pirates before her with a wiggle of a pinky. They are forced to stand still as statues while the furious sorceress marches over to the man closest to her, where she wraps both hands around his rather scrawny neck.

"I fucking hate slavers," Kyra snarls. Magic flares in her hands as she rips the man's head from his shoulders while his buddies watch. She tosses the head aside as the body falls backwards to the ground and turns to Law, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Can I kill them, Captain?" she asks, sounding to herself as nonchalant as though asking after the weather. A grin tugs at the man's thin lips; an inclination of the head is all the reply he gives.

The remaining kidnappers all simultaneously explode. Kyra's magic shields her from flying limbs and blood splatters, though the buildings on either side of the empty street are not so lucky. The rescued mermaid screams again and sobs louder than ever, curling into herself with her hands over her head as though to protect it from an oncoming blow. The black-haired killing machine isn't sure why the hell she's so upset now, seeing as how her kidnappers have been permanently dealt with, but figures it's probably just shock.

Snapping her fingers, she dispels her shields and saunters back over to her captain and Bepo, crouching down in front of the mermaid and reaching out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. It is withdrawn rather quickly when it is met by an even louder wail that makes Kyra's ears ring.

"What the hell?" she mumbles, standing up and shooting a questioning look at Law. The sadistic surgeon looks rather bored now that nobody's blowing up, giving her a shrug as if to say 'What are you looking at me for? Saving her was your idea'.

Asshole.

"Um... excuse me, Ms. Mermaid?" Kyra asks rather hesitantly, feeling foolish as she gently nudges the sobbing figure with her foot. "They're dead now. You're safe."

The mermaid pays her no mind and simply continues bawling into her tail. Bepo's ears are now lying flat against his furry head, his nose scrunched up at the shrill noise. The bear cautiously takes a subtle step away from the golden-haired banshee so that he stands partially behind his amused captain. Law merely starts chuckling.

Kyra's beginning to feel rather panicky. Why is the mermaid still crying? She's just been saved from possible slavery, shouldn't that make her happy? What the hell should Kyra do now? Shit, she's pants at all this emotional stuff - being a lab rat under a sadist for so many years put her in the habit of suppressing emotions that weren't rage of some kind. Sure, she's better now than she was say three years ago, but give her a sobbing woman of any species and she's completely lost.

"P-p-please! Please don't kill me!" the pretty mermaid suddenly wails, uncurling enough to fling herself at Kyra and wrapping her arms around the baffled mage's knees. "I DON'T WANNA DIE! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME LIKE THAT!"

Why the hell would Kyra have saved the mermaid if she had been planning on killing her? Apparently mermaid logic is not the same as human logic - or maybe this one is simply stupid. One or the other.

"Look, Ms. Mermaid... lady, I'm not going to kill you," the sorceress says rather loudly, trying to make herself heard over the sobbing and her ass of a captain's chortling. "I don't kill women. Please stop bawling and...could you please let go of me?"

Amazingly, the mermaid abruptly stops weeping and lifts her face out of Kyra's thighs to look up at the human woman. The smile on her face stretches from ear to ear, reminding the three pirates of a certain rubber idiot of their acquaintance.

"Really?" the mermaid cheers, her mood having done a complete turnaround from seconds before. Kyra can only nod, marveling at the weirdness of this whole encounter.

At that instant a swarm of fish-and-mer folk descend upon her, effectively knocking her to the ground and hiding both sorceress and recently rescued mermaid from view. They disperse as abruptly as they appeared, the mermaid gone with them and Kyra flat on her back with a bewildered expression on her face. What the hell just happened?

"Did I just get mob-stomped?" she blurts out, much to the vocal amusement of Law.

"It would seem so," he replies as Kyra gets back to her feet, dusting off her clothing and looking around suspiciously.

"What the hell," she mutters, stuffing her hands deep into the pockets of her trousers as the trio continues on down the once again deserted streets. "This place is weird. Why was everyone acting so paranoid?"

"Perhaps you should try harder to keep up with the current events of the world, Kyra," Law drawls, mockery so thick in his voice it's a miracle he doesn't choke on it.

"Are you going to be a bigger jackass than usual, or are you going to explain what the hell that means?"

"Fishman Island is one of the islands that was formerly under the protection of the Whitebeard Pirates. As you may recall, Whitebeard died at Marineford, which means his defenseless territories are now free game. Nobody was stupid enough to try kidnapping anyone from this place before his death, but without his protection these people are living targets."

Kyra scowls, her anger building with each word Law speaks. Of course. She knew this was going to happen the moment she saw Whitebeard's corpse. Thanks to that...that...fucking monster who'd killed him, the world is already plunging headfirst into the early stages of chaos. People like the inhabitants of this island are having their lives turned upside down, getting kidnapped and sold to the highest bidder because they are different and exotic. How many others like the mermaid she just saved have already disappeared?

And how the hell can Law talk about stuff like that so fucking calmly? Is the man completely indifferent to the suffering of those who are not members of his crew?

"That fucker," Kyra hisses, hands balling into fists in her pocket. "I should have killed him. Fucking bastard."

"Who should you have killed?" the laidback surgeon at her side inquires, glancing at her from the corner of his icy eye.

"That _guy._ The one who did in the old man. I was going to kill him at Marineford, but that dumb bastard Shanks stopped me."

She is abruptly pulled to a halt by the hand that appears on her elbow. Looking back in confusion, her eyes scan the shadows beneath her captain's fur hat in an attempt to see his eyes. "Law?"

"You _fought_ Blackbeard?"

Confused as to why the man sounds fairly pissed off all of a sudden, Kyra carefully coaxes her magic into shielding just enough to free her arm so that she can take a cautious step away. "Fat tub of lard, lots of kinky black hair and beard, missing several teeth? I didn't exactly ask for his name. I was going to kill him, but the Yonkuo Red-Haired Shanks showed up and stopped me. I probably wouldn't have lived very long if I had harpooned the fatass; I was pretty much drained to the dregs by the time he showed up, anyway. After Shanks got me to stop I teleported to your - hey!"

Law's hand shoots out towards Kyra's face. She manages to dodge this unexpected attack, annoyed when she gestures at him in an attempt to freeze his muscles and nothing happens. He's attacking her and _still_ her damn magic won't hurt him? Traitorous thing. He's so damn fast; it's hardly a surprise when he manages to grab her by the front of her shirt and drag her towards him until only an inch or less seperates their noses.

"Do you have a death wish?" the Dark Doctor hisses at her through clenched teeth. "Do you realize what kind of danger you put yourself in by engaging someone like Blackbeard in a fight?"

"Hey, I could have taken him!" Kyra fires back hotly, insulted that Law actually thinks she could lose in a fight against that pathetic excuse of a man. "What's your problem?"

Law pushes her away, watching dispassionately as she stumbles backwards a few steps before straightening up and glaring at him. "Jackass!"

Said jackass stalks past her without another word, leaving her to scramble along behind with the confused bear. Bepo hasn't said a word since leaving the sub, nor had he interrupted that little spat. Kyra remembers how protective the bear is every time that stupid cook so much as looks at her. Why is it different with Law?

She opens her mouth with every intention to ask, but never gets the chance as something strikes her in the back of the neck.

"Gotcha!" a voice shouts as Kyra stumbles, her vision immediately going fuzzy. She crashes into Bepo, grabbing onto his jumpsuit in an effort to steady herself as the ground seems to tilt crazily beneath her feet. Law is instantly at her side, snatching his long sword out of his first mate's grasp with a very unhappy look on his face.

"And what, gentlemen, do you think you are doing to my magician?" he inquires in a deadly quiet voice. Kyra would probably be impressed if she didn't feel so odd at the moment. Bringing up a shaking hand, she rubs at the back of her neck and pulls out whatever struck her, bringing it around in front of her to see a tiny dart. The ground suddenly lurches up towards her; only Bepo's quick actions keep her from face-planting.

"Captain, Kyra's hurt!" the bear exclaims in a frantic tone.

"Room."

Kyra vaguely registers the weird revving in her ears as she tries to stand up from being flopped in Bepo's arms. She hears the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath, followed by the whistling of steel slicing through the air. Several voices start screaming somewhere behind her.

"Whazz - whazz goin' un?" she slurs out, tongue dragging like it now weighs a hundred pounds. It feels as though someone has stuffed cotton in her ears, as all the sounds around her are strangely muffled as her eyelids droop.

"Shambles."

The faraway screams kick up a notch while Bepo carefully scoops Kyra up to cradle her bridal style, his chest once again vibrating with a continuous stream of deep growls. She feels the bear swiftly start to back up and is momentarily confused - isn't Law currently killing people behind them? Shouldn't they be going forward?

"Whaddar ya doin'?" she attempts to insist. "Goin' da wrong way."

Screaming all around. Bepo's growls graduating into full-fledged roars. The weird lethargy that drags down her senses seemingly without regard to protective magic. All this combined should prevent her from picking out anything below the level of a scream.

It's only a whisper. There's no way she should be able to hear it.

But she does.

"Hello, lovey."

Gut-wrenching terror cuts through the strange fog in her head at the sound of that voice. _Oh fuck no. Please no._

Expending a huge amount of effort, Kyra slowly manages to lift her head in the direction of the speaker. From the sound of it, the voice is coming from directly in front of them, possibly a few yards ahead now that the bear is scrambling furiously backwards. What she sees is enough to have clumsy hands scrabbling at the material of Bepo's jumpsuit, the sorceress' body shrinking into the bear's chest as he hugs her tighter and a keening wail pierces the ears of all around her.

Is he really there, in her head or out of it? No way to tell. With him, there isn't much of a difference anyway. He's dressed so casually. A t-shirt, jeans, boots. He always wears such normal, boring clothes. He's so forgettable too, with his plain brown hair, normal skin tone, well-maintained body. Just another face in the crowd, the kind of person that steps into a mob and disappears. Nothing that indicates who he is. Nothing to give away _what_ he is. No uniform, no insignia, no badge.

Merrick. Here. Standing a handful of yards in front of her, causally leaning against the side of a builing with his hands in his pockets. Merrick, his lips quirked up in a smile and his eyes fixated on Kyra.

He should be ugly. As hideous on the outside as he is on the inside. Twisted and evil in looks to match his personality.

He shouldn't look so fucking normal.

"Captain! He smells wrong! We need to run, Captain, we need to go now!"

"Is this a new pet of yours, lovey? A talking polar bear, how unique. We'll take him with us, shall we? He can keep you company in between testing. Would you like that, lovey?"

He's standing so close, oh gods he's so fucking close. She has to run, get away. She has to get Law and Bepo away from him. She has to go _now!_

**_NOW!_**

A powerful whip of pitch black magic lashes Merrick. Kyra doesn't see if it hits, for at the same time another string of her powers darts over to wrap around Law and yank him to her side again. As soon as he's next to her the girl's magic surrounds the trio, encasing them in a solid sphere which disappears half a second later.

Simultaneously, at different points across the island, members of the Heart Pirates are spontaneously wrapped in onyx energy and teleported away, to the general astonishment of any who happen to witness their departure.

Two minutes later, a yellow submarine with a grinning Jolly Roger painted on it, docked at the Fishman Island's port, abruptly vanishes into thin air.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra is my idea.

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><p>Three days after his rather impromptu departure from Fishman Island, the Surgeon of Death strides into his galley amidst shouts and the smell of blood to see Kyra sitting on Neil's broad chest, beating the ever-loving shit out of him.<p>

Rather than intervening, Trafalgar Law takes the time to do a diagnosis.

The cook's face now resembles something that has been put through a meat grinder: several of his teeth appear to be missing (jaw wired shut); the bone of his left cheek is poking through the skin (surgery, then facial cast); his nose is obviously shattered (full facial cast). Neil's shirt is soaked in scarlet, which could indicate a punctured lung, and that's if he's lucky. Law wonders what exactly the man did, to finally piss his magician off enough to deserve this.

The kitchen is a disaster zone. It looks to the captain as though his cabinets have all spontaneously vomited their contents again, minus the breakable dishes this time. The rest of the crew is alternating between cowering on the other side of the table for cover and shouting at Kyra to stop before she kills the cook. Bepo is nowhere to be seen, and Jambarl is standing by the door leading in the direction of the hatch, tree-trunk arms folded across an equally massive chest as he calmly watches the slip of a girl pulverize her own crewmate with her bare hands. The very implements which, as Law notices when he catches her by the wrist in the midst of another swing, have been laid open to the bone at the knuckles. Kyra doesn't even seem to notice; she whirls on her captain with a hair-raising snarl and throws a punch at him too. It misses, probably due to her awkward position combined with her blinding fury. Law yanks her off of his sobbing cook and wraps one arm around her, pinning both her arms to her sides and her back to his chest.

"Get the fuck off me!" the enraged magician screams, fighting wildly in an attempt to get back to her victim. "I'll kill him! **_I'll_ _kill him!_** I'll rip his fucking vocal cords out **_with my __teeth!"_**

"Jambarl!" the Dark Doctor barks at his strongest subordinate. The gargantuan figure immediately strides over, taking Kyra from his captain and tucking her furiously shrieking form under one arm as though she weighs nothing more than a wet rag. Law is quick to crouch next to his cook, pulling a scalpel out of a pocket and cutting away the ruined shirt so he can get a better look at the damage. He is surprised to see nothing less than a _fork_ stabbed almost all the way into Neil's chest, to the right of his heart and so deep only a sliver of the fork's handle is still visible.

Damn. If she did that with only her bare hands as well, then Kyra possesses very good upper body strength.

"Sachi, Penguin. Get him to the infirmary now."

The two friends are instantly there, scooping the battered cook up and hustling from the room without a word. The rest of the crew is tentatively emerging from behind cover, everyone giving Jambarl and his shouting cargo a wide berth. Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. This is not the way he expected to spend his morning - he would have preferred a quiet breakfast and subtle teasing of his magician instead of barely stopping her from killing one of his men.

"Jambarl, take her to her room and then wait outside the door until I get there. The rest of you start cleaning up this mess. Where is Bepo?"

"Ate his fish and went up on deck 'fore the fight started, Captain," Haru mutters, eyeing the still struggling sorceress with a strange expression on his face as the quiet giant exits the room with the girl in tow.

"What caused it?"

The lead mechanic shrugs. "Dunno, Captain. I weren't payin' no attention 'til that girl stuck a fork in Neil for whatever reason. Might want ta ask Sachi er Penguin."

Law gives a curt nod in acknowledgement of this piece of advice before leaving the galley. He goes straight to the infirmary where he finds the aforementioned pair standing off to the side engaged in reading a crumpled newspaper while Neil occupies one of the infirmary cots and is currently cursing Kyra to hell and back as loud as he can with his injuries. In a rare fit of irritation, the doctor slams the infirmary door shut behind him with unnecessary force. Neil immediately falls silent, eyeing his captain with a mix of fear and trepidation. Law ignores him, marching over to the cabinets closest to the other men and gathering the supplies necessary to begin treatment.

"What happened?" he demands from the pair in his most deadly quiet voice. Sachi immediately jumps to explain, yanking the newspaper out of Penguin's loose grip and waving it through the air.

"Got a newspaper from one of the gulls today, Captain, and Kyra was looking through it while she fixed breakfast. Neil came in and started acting like an ass again, grabbed the paper away from her and flipped through it like she wasn't even there. She just ignored him until he started laughing and showed me and Penguin the new bounties. Kyra's got one too, Captain."

At this Sachi hands the paper to Law, who opens it and leafs through until he comes across his magician's picture. He is unsure when the photo was taken until he sees the background and realizes it must be from Marineford. She is... Law runs a finger over the face of the newsprint, his grey eyes cataloging every facet of her image. She is glorious. Her magic is whipping around her, raising her curly hair into a crazy halo. Her usually blue eyes are darkest black, glaring in the photographer's direction with an arm buried to the elbow in a man's chest. Her face is flecked with blood, as are her clothes.

Demon Witch Kyra. Bounty of 60,000,000 beri. Wanted alive.

"Kyra got real upset when Neil showed her the bounty," Sachi is saying. "He laughed at her and was making fun of her, saying she must've screwed somebody real high on the food chain to convince 'em to give her that high a bounty right off. She didn't go nuts on him, though, until he made a shitty comment about her mom."

This last has Law tearing his eyes from the bounty poster to look at his men. Both of them nod in tandem, assuring him that yes, he heard that right.

"It was real low, Captain," Penguin states gruffly, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his boiler suit and his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. "You just don't say shit like that about somebody's mama unless you wanna get into a fight. Dirty thing to do, if you ask me."

"What did he say?"

They glance at one another, and it is Sachi who answers. "He said that maybe he was wrong, maybe Kyra's mom hates her so much that she screwed somebody in the World Government to make sure Kyra's bounty was real high like that. He started asking what Kyra's mom looked like, asking if she thought her mom would be a good lay, and said he hoped she had bigger... uh, bigger, uh _assets_ than Kyra does 'cause she's too small for his tastes. Then he kinda grabbed Kyra's butt and told her... uh, he said he'd..." Sachi trails off, his face beet-red and looking extremely uncomfortable.

Law is not in the mood to let the poor man off the hook. "What did he say?"

"He said... he said he'd let Kyra watch while he fucked her mom, so she could learn how he likes his women and be assured he'd make a real good whore out of her mom. He said once he was done with her mom, Kyra would get a turn too if she wanted. Said he was sure she'd be just fine after he'd gotten his fill of her big-breasted, big-assed mom. That was when Kyra turned around and stabbed him with a fork. Then she was all over him, took him to the floor and just started wailin' on him." Sachi and Penguin both look somewhat nauseated, whether because of what their cook said or the aftermath is unclear.

Law however is not disturbed in the least. Instead, he is furious. Making a supreme effort and managing to reign in his temper, he very calmly begins replacing everything he has gathered to treat Neil's wounds. The two men next to him watch curiously.

"Uh, Captain...?" Sachi's tongue fails him before he can finish.

Penguin completes his sentence. "What are you doing?"

Without answering the question, the Dark Doctor strides to the occupied bed in his infirmary, pulling a scalpel back out of his pocket as he goes. His tattooed fingers are soon clamped around Neil's throat, choking the battered man and preventing him from moving. Looking directly into Neil's eyes, Law slips the scalpel proficiently into his chest and slices downward, cutting him open from collarbone to his groin area.

Blood sprays everywhere, hitting the Surgeon of Death and soaking his face and front as Neil screams in agony. Not bothered in the least, Law jerks the scalpel free and levels it at the dying man as he begins gurgling on his own blood.

"I will ask our magician if she will consent to healing you," the pirate captain informs his dying cook in a cold voice. "If she refuses, then you are going to die. I told you several times not to bother Kyra, Neil. You should have listened." He then glances over at the two witnesses to this deadly discipline. "Sachi, Penguin, stay here and watch him until I get back. Don't try to help him."

Not that he thinks they would make the attempt, but now Neil will realize nobody else will save him. They both nod weakly, looking rather green around the gills as their blood-soaked leader exits his domain.

Law says nothing to Jambarl as the big man steps aside so that he can enter Kyra's room. Once inside, his eyes scan the chamber in search of the girl, spotting her in the same corner where she had been cuddling with Bepo the other day. This time, her satchel is beside her and the little gold necklace is clutched tightly in one bloody and shaking fist, her knuckles newly healed and tears dripping from her face as she stares unseeingly ahead of her. As he watches, Kyra reaches up and irritably scrubs at her cheeks with a fist like a child. Law steps around the bed to stand in front of her, noticing when her eyes focus on him and the way they widen in shock at the blood that drenches his frame.

"What the fuck happened to _you?"_ she blurts out. The surgeon only takes two more steps and to crouch down on his haunches before her.

"Can you cook?"

The question, coming seemingly from nowhere, is obviously confusing to her. "Uh, yeah?" Then after a second, "You realize you're covered in blood, right?"

"Would you be willing to heal Mr. Neil?"

The girl's confusion vanishes to be instantly replaced with rage. "Fuck him! If the bastard can't handle a little pain then he needs to learn to keep his fucking mouth shut! No I'm not going to heal the fucker! Not even if you ordered me to, so don't bother trying, Law! He deserves what he got!"

Kyra uses a sleeve to roughly wipe more tears from her face, sniffling angrily and glaring all the while. "My mother is **_not_** a whore! She's a better person than that fucker could ever hope to be! And she doesn't h-hate me, I d-don't care what he said, she d-doesn't! You should've j-just - just let me kill him! I hate that f-fucking bastard for what he s-said, I hate him!"

Law nods in understanding. "Very well. I'll go see if he's still alive then, and inform him you refuse to help him if he is."

Kyra, who buried her face in her hands as soon as she finished speaking, snaps her head back up at once. "What do you mean 'still alive'? I didn't use any magic on that bastard!"

"I'm aware of that," Law replies nonchalantly, rising back to his feet and casually placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "But I doubt my cook can survive the treatment I performed on him, and as we have both refused to assist him I doubt he'll last much longer."

His magician gawks at him with a flabbergasted look on her face. "WHAT? You did that to your own _man? **Why?"**_

"He undercooked the beans last night," Law supplies with a completely straight face. The slender pirate pauses to enjoy the look on her face before rising to head out the door and shutting it behind him.

Rather than continuing on his way, though, the Dark Doctor takes up position right outside. He leans back against a wall and crosses his arms, pulling his hat down low over his eyes as a sign he does not wish to be disturbed. Jambarl studies his captain but does not say a word. The two of them wait in companionable silence.

A few seconds later, the door opens and Kyra comes trooping out. Law lifts the brim of his hat to study her as she stomps by.

"I'll heal your stupid cook if he's alive. If he's dead he can fucking stay that way. I don't owe him shit, and no way am I sullying myself with his soul." Kyra looks disgusted at the very thought, as though talking about something slimy and gross. Perhaps in her way of thinking, she is. Law does not respond as he follows her down the hall.

Sachi and Penguin are right where he left them, staring at Neil in sick fascination. They both glance over when Law and Kyra enter the room.

"Does this mean she said yes?" Penguin asks.

The doctor answers with a question of his own. "Is he still alive?"

"Yup."

Kyra glances in Law's direction. "Then I'll heal the prick. Mostly. I'm leaving his ugly face the way I made it. I think he looks better now anyway. If you two want to scram, feel free to tell all your buddies that should anyone so much as look at me wrong I'll do the same to them. Beat it."

Sachi and Penguin are quick to scramble out the door - but not before the both of them give Kyra tight hugs. Law smiles at the shocked look on her face, as though she can't believe they just did that. He wonders for a moment if she's going to yell something at their retreating backs, but all she does is close the infirmary door and step up to stand beside the weakly sobbing cook. Her feet, always bare, land in a puddle of the man's blood; the surgeon watches as her toes curl slightly one time as she leans over their victim.

"Isn't this fitting?" she breathes in Neil's face. "Law cut you open like the pig you are, and now the only one who can save your ass is me. Do you want me to save you? Do you want me to fix you so you don't die?"

Neil gurgles something, coughing wetly and unintentionally spitting a little blood in Kyra's face. The girl calmly wipes it away with a sleeve before glancing once more in the Dark Doctor's direction.

"You want to watch this time?" she asks nonchalantly, as though her healing someone on the brink of death is as common as breathing. Law grins.

"Love to."

His magician's eyes immediately glow black, a white aura surrounding one hand. She turns back to Neil, puts her face down near his so that their noses are almost touching. Her other palm is placed on his protruding cheekbone, causing him to moan pitifully when she presses down.

"I'm going to fix you up, bastard," Law hears her whisper. "I'm going to heal everything except your face, because you deserve to have your ass kicked for what you said to me about my mother. I'm going to save your worthless life, and you get to live knowing that the only reason you didn't bleed to death is 'cause I'm really fucking nice."

And so saying Kyra lays her glowing hand upon Neil, just above the start of the slit from Law's scalpel. The pirate moves to stand opposite her so that he has a good view of what's going on, and what he sees is fascinating. He watches as Neil's body begins to heal from the inside out, the severed tissues of muscle rebuilding themselves quickly and effectively. The entire process is over in a mere ten minutes, rather than the several hours it took for Kyra to heal and resurrect Fire Fist Ace. Law assumes this is due to the differences in the severity of the wounds, the time that elapsed before healing each, and possibly the fact that Fire Fist Ace had been dead. He says nothing, merely watches Neil's miraculous recovery until all that is left to show that the Surgeon of Death split him open from sternum to groin is a long, angry purple scar. Next to it is a small pink scar that marks the point where the lethal silverware pierced the cook; the fork itself disintegrated during the healing.

Kyra steps back. "He should be fine, Captain. Everything's good except the face, and I reset his nose and his cheek. Want to give him a checkup or whatever?"

Law shakes his head. "I'll trust that you know what you're doing. You may leave, Neil."

"One sec."

Neil lets out a high-pitched yelp as a cord of black magic wraps tightly around his neck. He glances fearfully from the cold expression on Kyra's face to his captain. Said captain makes no move to help him; he wants to see what Kyra plans to do now.

"Now you better listen to me real hard, pal, because this is the last warning I'm going to give you ever. No more chances - you piss me off again, you're dead. So don't forget what I say when I tell you that if you ever dare even consider saying a single thing about my mother, if you even ponder to yourself whether she was right or left handed or whether she likes sushi or fruit or what color her fucking hair is - you die. I left a little magic in you, cooky. If you ever sully my mother with your thoughts again, my magic will sense it, and it'll eat you alive from the inside out until there's nothing left. It'll be slow and painful and you'll be begging me to put you out of your misery. It'll make what Law just did to you look like a fairytale princess birthday party. Got it?"

Neil makes an effort to speak. "Y-yes."

"Good."

Law watches with a tiny grin as the cord of magic disappears. Neil immediately swings his feet over the side of the bed and stands, only wobbling slightly before bolting to the door and wrenching it open so that he might flee. As soon as he is out of hearing range, Kyra meets Law's gaze and shrugs.

"Okay, so maybe I didn't really leave any magic in him, and it won't really eat him from the inside out. But he doesn't know that. And no, you do not look like a fairytale princess. Too much blood, not enough cleavage."

The Dark Doctor can't help but smirk at that. "I should hope not."

His magician walks over and puts her hand out, stopping just before she would be touching the blood-soaked fabric over his chest. "Is any of that yours? I can heal you if you need it."

Law shakes his head. Kyra withdraws her hand slightly and waves it sharply in between them; in an instant his hoodie is once again spotless, the semi-dried blood on his face and neck gone as well. Eyebrow raised, Law removes his furry hat and gives it a critical once over, pleased to find no hint of scarlet in the white. Grinning once more, he puts it back on and moves so that he can sling an arm around Kyra's waist.

"Let's go, my magician. I never got my breakfast thanks to your little temper tantrum, and I would like to rectify that."

A rude noise comes in response. "What do you need me for? Don't you know how to cook?"

"I am a pirate and a surgeon, my dear magician, not a housewife. Why should I bother when you can do it for me?"

"What a great excuse to get around saying that you can't cook worth shit..." Something seems to dawn on her then. "Hey, wait a minute, you asshole, are you implying I'm your fucking _housewife?_ Fuck you! If this is the part where you pull out some frilly pink apron, I swear I'll stuff it up your ass!"

Oh, how Law does so enjoy teasing his magician.

* * *

><p>It is very, very late, and Kyra is sitting alone on the deck of Law's sub. She is curled in a ball with her hands wrapped around her knees and her chin resting atop them, and she is sobbing like she hasn't in ages. The necklace her mother gave her for her tenth birthday, part of a pair whose sister piece remains with her parent, is clenched tightly in one fist as she weeps.<p>

Kyra has not seen her mother's face in anything other than dreams or nightmares in over a decade.

Demon Witch. That's exactly what the people of her village used to call her as a child. Figures that bitch called Fate would rig the story of Kyra's life so that the Navy and World Government would choose that as her epithet. Figures she has to deal with all the bad memories associated with that damn name. It's no wonder she had that fucking nightmare tonight. All the villagers had been screaming 'Demon Witch' when she escaped the island all those many years ago by accident right in the middle of a punishment. The only one who ever called her by her name back then was her mother. Her mother, who had been screaming her name while being held back by two of the shaman's goons, forced to watch as her twelve-year-old daughter's flesh was shredded. Her mother, whom she left on that fucking island when her magic flared up mid-whip and transported her out of there for the first time ever. Her mother, who she hasn't seen in over a decade.

Yeah, all things considered, that prick of a cook made a huge mistake showing her that stupid bounty poster right before starting in on her like that. He's really lucky she's so fucking nice.

Kyra sniffs, rubbing the back of a hand under her eyes in a useless attempt to wipe away her tears. She needs to get herself under control soon. She's been up here for a while now, and there's always a chance that some night owl will pop up to the deck for some fresh air and find her. That would be absolutely humiliating, especially if she is found by -

"Having a rough night?"

...Why, gods? Seriously, why?

She should probably be used to this by now. It's already been proven countless times over that Trafalgar Law exists solely for the purpose of embarrassing, harassing, or scaring the shit out of her at every available opportunity. Kyra would swear the man spends more than half his time thinking up inventive ways to annoy her.

Caught, Kyra merely shifts so that her face is buried in the tops of her knees. This way she will not have to look at him when he sits down beside her. Because obviously he's going to come over here; leaving her alone to bawl her eyes out in private would be the polite thing to do, and Law doesn't do genuine politeness. If something gentile comes out of his mouth it's a safe bet it's an insult or a threat. Sure enough, after a few seconds the mage feels a warm body press into her side as the shirtless pirate makes himself comfortable. Kyra grips her legs tighter, pressing her face harder into her knees and praying to the gods who hate her that the man will just sit there quietly. Praying that he won't try to engage her in conversation or ask her personal, awkward questions.

"Why are you crying? Tell me what you dreamt about."

Maybe she should try using reverse psychology on these damn gods... _Heap the shit on me, you fuckers!_

"And why," she rasps, throat sore from crying, "would I do that, you asshole? Dreams are personal. Why the hell would I talk to you about them?"

"Who else would you talk to about them?"

How freaking hard-headed is this guy? "Nobody. They're _personal,_ meaning they're nobody else's fucking business."

A warm hand gently cards itself into her hair, stroking at her scalp in a soothing manner. Kyra stiffens, growling at the intimacy hinted at in such a gesture; as though anybody but her mother has a right to act so familiar with her. Law doesn't seem to feel threatened, as he does not remove his hand or let up. The sorceress tries to shield, pissed when nothing happens. Her stupid magic was practically jumping to get out of her earlier so it could maim that fucking cook, but now that she _wants_ to use it, it's gone on holiday. Wonderful.

"Will you stop that?" Kyra snarls, yanking her head sideways in a failed bid to get away from the pirate's hand. He merely makes a fist, exerting slightly uncomfortable pressure on her roots as he does so.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Law inquires, a definite smirk in his voice.

"It's something my mother used to do," she blurts out without thinking. "You're ruining the memories, so get your hands out of my freakin' hair."

There is a long pause in which nothing happens. Kyra lifts her head and glances tiredly at her captain, wincing at the thoughtful look on his face. Shit, why did she tell him that? Finally Law slowly removes his fingers, letting them trail down and around to Kyra's hand where it grips the fabric of her pajama pants in a white-knuckled fist. His tattooed appendages easily pry hers loose, trapping it in his grip and bringing it to rest in his lap.

Well, at least it's not her head in his fucking lap. Kyra's too tired to fight him anyway. She hasn't slept worth shit since seeing _him_ at Fishman Island. Sometimes she hears his voice whispering to her during the day; sometimes those spectral hands he employs will brush her skin. At night she dreams of the labs, the experiments, the chemicals and needles. Tonight she saw her mother there, strapped to that cold little table while toxin after toxin was pumped into her veins until she died, screaming for Kyra to help her.

The sorceress envies the hell out of the bastards on her crew, who can sleep whenever they want without fear of the demons in their memories coming out to torture them.

"What is this?"

Law's voice - and the less-than-pleased tone he's using - snaps her out of her thoughts. Looking over, she sees that he has taken her necklace from her hand and is holding it before his face, examining it in the weak moonlight. Momentarily panicking at the thought that he might drop it or lose it (or worse, refuse to give it back), Kyra's free hand darts out and snatches it from him. Immediately she brings it close to her chest, holding the tiny treasure against her heart.

"It's mine!" she snaps defensively, speaking without thinking. "My mother gave it to me! Don't you dare try to take it away, I'll kill you if you do!"

The smirk that graces the Dark Doctor's face is weirdly smug. "Ah, a gift from your mother. My apologies."

Kyra eyes him suspiciously, trying to subtly remove her ensnared fingers from his grasp. The grip merely tightens slightly as the smirk turns sharp.

"Don't run off just yet, Kyra. If you refuse to talk about your dreams, then why don't you tell me a little more about the gentleman we ran into at Fishman Island. Perhaps you can explain why someone with powers such as yours didn't simply kill the man instead of running away? You did dump my ship and crew in the New World without warning - I would have been very unhappy if that had turned out poorly." His voice is perfectly polite, but as Kyra reflected earlier, all that means is that he's either being sarcastic or threatening. Possibly both.

He wants her to talk about Merrick. How can she do that when just the thought of him has the breath catching in her lungs and the acid in her stomach roiling? As though reading her thoughts, Law begins sweeping his calloused thumb across the back of her trapped hand, rubbing circles in it in what might be an attempt to calm her. Oddly enough, it works; Kyra exhales a gusty sigh as her stomach settles, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words.

"Who is he?" Law asks softly.

"Merrick," the mage immediately replies, his name jumping off her tongue before she even realizes what the question was. Maybe this won't be so hard if Law just keeps asking her questions. She can answer specific questions about Merrick, right?

"The scar on your neck?"

"His autograph. His signature."

"When did that happen?"

"The first day." Kyra's mouth is dry as a desert. She has to swallow before she can speak again. "I was twelve."

"The first day of what?"

"The experiments."

Law's grip tightens again. "How did you end up in these experiments?"

"Sengoku." The name is spat with revulsion; she wishes she had something to drink to wash out the foul taste it leaves in her mouth. "The goat-fucking, lying bastard gave me to them. He said he'd help me. He said he'd get me back to my mother. Instead he sold me away to be a fucking lab rat. All for the 'safety of the world'."

"Sengoku the Buddha? Fleet Admiral Sengoku of the Navy gave you to this man?"

"Yes."

There is a long pause. Kyra does not look over at her captain, does not move her gaze from the endless blackness of the nighttime sea before her. If she doesn't look at him, maybe this will be easier. Maybe she won't think so much about what she's telling him. Maybe she should allow him to just get her drunk off her ass again, since being wasted seems to make her alarmingly chatty.

"What did this Merrick person do to you?"

"Everything," Kyra breathes, hand clenching around her necklace. "Stabbed me. Injected hundreds of different poisons into my body. Burned me. Poured acid on me. Made me drink acid. Made me drink chemical mixtures. Performed surgical procedures on me while I was totally aware."

"Did he ever rape you?"

Kyra shudders at the mere thought. "No. He told me once we'd try that when he decided I was old enough."

"Why didn't your magic ever kill him?"

"...I don't know. I tried. Gods, I tried so many times. Nothing ever happened to him worse than some broken bones. I killed his assistants, visiting Navy personnel, tons of other people while I was locked up there, but I couldn't kill him. He's not like normal humans. He has some kind of ability; he used to talk to me in my mind while he tortured me, so I could hear him over my screams. He found me at Marineford, communicated telepathically with me again for the first time since I escaped. He's been... whispering to me ever since. I hear his voice all the time." Kyra's voice cracks during this last statement, and she has to take a couple of deep breaths to calm herself.

"Why haven't you told me?"

Kyra scowls darkly. "And what the hell were you going to do about it, Law? Give me a partial lobotomy in the hopes that if you managed to chop out the right part of my brain his voice would go away? There was no reason to tell you when you can't do jack-shit about it."

Law is quiet for a long time, and she makes no attempt to break the silence. She doesn't want to tell him anything else. He has the gist of her years in the labs, that should be good enough. She wipes her face on her sleeve and stares dully out at the ocean, wishing more than ever for the wonderful oblivion of a dreamless sleep.

"Has Bepo not let you sleep on him lately?"

At this seemingly random question, Kyra turns her head and regards her sadistic captain in confusion. "No. Just that one time when you found us. Why?"

"From what Bepo said and from my own observations, you seem to sleep better when you are not alone," Law muses, those ice-chip eyes of his glinting strangely as they roam over her face. "Very well, then. You'll sleep with me tonight. Let's go."

...

**_WHAT?_**

_**"WHAT?"**_ Kyra practically screeches once her brain processes what her captian has just decided. By this time Law has already pulled her to her feet and is dragging her across the deck in the direction of the hatch.

"You're obviously exhausted. You need sleep, you sleep better when you have company, and Bepo is already down for the night. So instead you will be sleeping with me. In my room, of course; my bed is more comfortable than yours." All of this is stated in a calm, bland tone. He might as well be commenting on the weather, for all the interest he shows in the conversation. Lucky him - Kyra's having a freakin' panic attack.

"I'm not sleeping with you! Let go, you crazy bastard!" She tries to pry her wrist free of the pirate's iron grasp to no avail, dragging her feet as Law pulls her in the direction of their rooms. She tries to shield, or teleport, anything to get away from this man; nothing happens. Shit, now what?

_Go with him. His. Protect you. Sleep._

Oh, how absolutely fucking perfect. Her stupid love-sick magic's going to start that shit again. Is it really so naive as to think that a guy like Law is capable of sleeping in the same bed as a woman and keeping his paws to himself at the same time?

_Not hurt you. Protect you. He is ours and you are his. Sleep beside him and know peace._

And just why exactly can't she be so lucky as to know peace while sleeping safe in her own fucking bed, with two doors and a lot of blankets between herself and this man?

_Need him. Alone too long. Need him._

It is times such as these that make Kyra truly despise that stupid little voice. Because it's obviously the voice's fault when she finds herself in Trafalgar Law's bed despite her vocal and physical protests, her back to him and one of his arms thrown around her hips so that his hand rests on her stomach. She tries to put more space between herself and the body behind her. In response his arm tightens around her, drawing her towards him until her spine is pressed snugly to his chest.

"Go to sleep, my magician. You have nothing to be afraid of. Just relax and trust me."

Trust him? Ha, that's a laugh. The last time she made the mistake of trusting a man she got put in the labs, and how the hell does he expect her to relax with his warm hand on her stomach and his warm body behind her and his warm breath tickling her -

Kyra is asleep before the thought can be completed.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Kyra groggily opens her eyes, wondering why she has a pounding headache and why her pillow is gently moving up and down. Deciding that she really can't be bothered to care when she could be sleeping instead, the sorceress burrows her face into the surprisingly firm cushion and closes her eyes again. She is warm, comfortable, and aside from the headache she feels pretty good. Nothing else is important at the moment except catching a few more minutes in dreamland before the crew starts bitching for their breakfast.<p>

She's already halfway unconscious again when gentle fingers move from where they rest on one hip to slip under her shirt and caress the skin there. Kyra grunts, shifting to get away from the tickling appendages and huddling closer to the warm pillow. The fingers persist, stroking their way over the scars on her back until the hand they are attatched to is pressing its palm flat between her shoulder-blades.

The fuzzy question of just who is rubbing her back has sleepy blue orbs cracking open once more, gazing blankly at the yellow fabric in front of her face. Raising her head a little, Kyra is momentarily baffled to be looking down at Law's favorite hoodie, its Jolly Roger grinning up at her. Why is Law's hoodie on her pillow?

"Good morning, my magician," that annoyingly husky voice says from far too close at hand. Her stomach clenching in dread and her heart in her throat, Kyra lifts her eyes up her pillow until she meets her captain's amused stare.

She has been using Trafalgar Law as a pillow all night long. Trafalgar Law. Her pillow.

_**...Fuck** my life!_

The panicked girl leaps to her feet, completely forgetting that she is in a bed in her haste to get away. She therefore tangles her feet in Law's sheets and goes crashing to the floor, narrowly avoiding severe damage to the cranium as her head clears the corner of the surgeon's desk by inches. An instant later has Kyra on her feet, flinging sheets everywhere and sprinting towards the door. She plans to dart out the door and go lock herself in her own bathroom until she's no longer in danger of dying from shock and embarassment.

Her brilliant plans are dashed when Law manages to grab her, pulling her back with him as he flops onto his mattress. Terrified, Kyra shields in a desperate bid to protect herself and nearly screams in frustration when her fucking magic stretches to include the pirate. Stupid traitorous stuff!

"Let go! Let go of me right now!" she squeaks, instantly mortified - she had meant to scream that, not squeal like a stuck pig.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" the sadistic bastard purrs, going so far as to nuzzle the crook of Kyra's neck with his nose. She can hear and feel him taking a deep breath, drawing in her scent, and it does nothing to calm her down. If anything, the mage is now officially freaked out: the guy's sniffing her just like his bear did weeks ago and she seriously doubts its for the same reasons. Kyra lashes out and tries to punch him.

"Will you stop that, you _creep?"_ Her voice once more comes out about six octaves too high, heightening her mortification to an all new extreme.

He does so, releasing her amidst slightly sinister chuckles that have Kyra fleeing all the more swiftly until at last she slams the door of her bathroom behind her and collapses on the cold floor. She covers her burning face with her hands, embarrased beyond all belief. Gods, she slept with her head on Law's chest! He's going to give her shit about this forever, she just knows it! What about the crew? Kyra groans at the very thought of what they will say if they find out; the bastards all love to tease her.

It is with great reluctance that Kyra enters the galley some time later, glancing around nervously and feeling absurdly relieved to find the room empty. She knows that this will not last long once she begins to cook, but at least her evil bastard of a captain isn't waiting to start harassing her immediately. Maybe if she is very lucky they will make it through breakfast without Kyra suffering the uncontrollable urge to kill everyone in the room. She removes a packet of bacon and the carton of eggs from the fridge and sets them on the counter before crouching down to dig a skillet out of the bottom cabinets. The mage has noticed that the most recent of Law's kitchen bantering has been done at a distance if she has her hands on large, heavy pots, so maybe the cast-iron monstrosity will keep him the hell away from her while she cooks.

Or she can simply whack him over the head first chance she gets. His choice.

The cranky woman has yet to finish heating her skillet when their reclusive navigator Gable comes tearing through the galley at breakneck speeds, screaming his captain's name at the top of his lungs.

"Captain Law! Enemy ship on approach, Captain! Enemy ship coming up on the starboard!"

Enemy ship? Kyra wonders if this means Marines or rival pirates. Turning off the stove and returning the food to the fridge with a negligent gesture, Kyra leans against a counter and waits for Law to come through the room. He'll doubtless have orders for her. She'll listen, and as long as he doesn't tell her something stupid like 'stay inside' or 'hide in your room' she supposes she can do what he says. The sorceress is curious; she has never really seen the Dark Doctor in a full-out battle before. Will he end up using that strange Devil Fruit ability to rearrange body parts? That would be very interesting to see.

The subject of her thoughts strolls nonchalantly through the galley a moment later, followed closely by the big man called Jambarl with Bepo rushing along behind. Most of the rest of the crew follows, carrying an array of weapons that seem to include everything from pistols to clubs to butcher knives. Law slides a lazy glance Kyra's way, tilting his head in a beckoning gesture. She pushes off the counter and follows the pirate crew up to the deck, not bothering to find a weapon. All she'll need is her magic, that's weapon enough for her.

As soon as she is on deck, Kyra pushes her power out to shield the entire ship just in time to intercept the first wave of cannon fire. The balls explode harmlessly against the protective bubble as the Navy ship barrels through the water towards them. A commanding voice yells something and is answered by what must surely be a rousing battle cry from the rest of the military personnel on the vessel, all of whom line the railing from fore to aft with weapons held at the ready in preparation to board. Lifting a bored eyebrow, the magical menace of the Heart Pirates raises a hand in the air above her head and begins to bring it down, fully intending to use her powers to slice the approaching ship in two.

"Don't, Kyra."

Halting her movement, Kyra shoots a quizzical look at her captain. Law is standing very close beside her, gazing at the oncoming enemy with a wild grin on his face. His long sword has been drawn from its sheath and now the blunt edge rests against its wielder's shoulder as he practically vibrates with anticipation. He returns her look and winks at her cheekily.

"Can't have you stealing all the fun again, my magician," he drawls out. "Lower your shields once you've destroyed that ship's cannons. The boys and I would like to play too - let them board us."

Kyra is fast becoming convinced that her captain is insane. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

Yup, he's nuts. And judging by the huge smirks gracing the visages of all the men ranged around the deck of this ship, his crew is just as bat-shit as he is. Why else would a bunch of men with no extraordinary powers look to be as pumped about the chance to fight in a death-match as these guys are? Maybe they're all just adrenaline junkies or something. Shrugging her shoulders, Kyra carefully obliterates every cannon on the enemy vessel before dropping her shields and leaning against the sub's metal railing to wait. The Marines are within firing distance but it will take a couple of minutes before they are close enough to board.

"Do you want me to fight or can I just sit back and watch?" she inquires, kind of hoping he'll let her sit this one out. She's really curious about his Devil Fruit and it will be somewhat difficult to watch if she's busy butchering people. Law's grin grows wilder and the look he gives her is decidedly creepy.

"Something you're hoping to see, Kyra?" he purrs at her, reaching over and stroking a tanned finger down her arm. Kyra shifts away, forcing down the heat that wishes to rise in her face and wishing she had put on something with long sleeves after her shower this morning instead of a tank top. She shrugs again, keeping her eyes fixed on the ship in front of them.

"You've seen me fight," she reminds him, referring to their initial encounter on Saboady. "Now it's your turn. Surely Trafalgar Law isn't _shy,_ right?"

Law pretends to be considering something for a moment, tapping the back of his blade against one shoulder. "Well, I suppose that would be alright as long as you don't just stand around while my men get killed. If you'll help them should the need arise, then I will allow you to watch rather than actively take part in this fight. After all, it's not every day that a pretty lady requests that I do battle for her sake."

Kyra scowls at him in annoyance. "You just love twisting people's words so they fit your own purposes, don't you?"

The Surgeon of Death merely smirks at her.

Smug bastard.

Instinct has the sorceress crouched down on her haunches just a second before some idiot in a Marine uniform goes flying over her head, sword in hand and screaming for all he's worth. His companions soon join him, and in no time flat the submarine is like a warzone. Kyra puts up a small shield around herself and watches with interest as the quiet, shy first mate emits bone-jarring snarls and swipes his razor sharp claws across the faces of all the soldiers stupid enough to come near him. She watches the gargantuan figure of Jambarl take a sword to the arm without so much as flinching. He then proceeds to wrap one hand around the attacker's throat and snaps his neck like a twig before tossing the body overboard. A casual flick of a pinkie here or there is enough to save a pirate from a stab in the back or a gunshot from a distance, so Kyra is free to observe as her captain steps into the melee and puts his hand palm-down out in front of him. He grins like a maniac and mouths a single word.

"Room."

A vaguely familiar revving fills the air as a large blue sphere engulfs Law along with quite a substantial number of Marines. The curious mage watches closely as the smirking Supernova lifts his sword and slices it multiple times through the air. Incredibly, every single Marine inside the sphere instantly breaks into several pieces as their arms, legs, and heads detach from their torsos. Even more amazing, the pieces hang suspended in the air without spilling a single drop of blood; it is as though these floating body parts are completely natural to the human condition. Eyes wide, Kyra looks on as Law moves his hands in an almost hypnotizing pattern before him with a murmur of "Shambles", causing the limbs and torsos to start flying crazily around the sphere until random body parts begin to connect with one another. So it is that when the blue globe disappears, the crowd of Marines caught within it lie helpless upon the deck of the sub, their bodies thoroughly scrambled.

It's probably one of the coolest things Kyra has ever seen.

"Law, you crazy bastard," she breathes, awestruck as mismatched Marines begin wailing for help from their otherwise occupied comrades. "That was _awesome._ Please say you'll show me that again sometime. Does that even hurt them? They weren't bleeding at all and you cut them into pieces from a distance! How'd you do that?"

The pirate grins smugly. "Magic."

Oh that's so funny, ha-ha. Jackass.

A roar of pain jerks Kyra's attention around in time to see Bepo collapse, blood sprayed down the front of his orange suit as one of the remaining soldiers yanks a sword from the bear's chest, its tip broken off. Enraged, Kyra races towards the fallen bear as several other Marines prepare to kill the fluffy creature, leveling the barrels of their pistols at his head. A wave of one hand turns the weapons into dust, and in the next second all of them have exploded in a shower of blood and guts. Law is instantly at Bepo's side, jerking the zipper of the orange clothes down and yanking the fabric out of the way as the Heart Pirates handily finish dispatching their enemies. Bepo lies very still under his captain's hands, beady black eyes blinking up at the sky until Kyra crouches opposite Law and puts a hand in the bloody fur.

"Want me to heal him? Or teleport you both to the infirmary?" she asks, fighting to keep her voice even. That fucking Marine stabbed his sword deep. What if he hit something important? Is Bepo going to die? The crew clusters around the trio worriedly, muttering amongst themselves.

"Infirmary," Law says at once, his voice unusually tight. There is cold anger in every line of his face, not a trace of the earlier smirk present. He is pissed in a way Kyra has never seen before, and she wonders just how much Law truly cares about his fuzzy first mate.

"We'll take care of the trash up here, Captain," Sachi blurts out from behind her. "Want us to sink the ship?"

"No," is the curt reply. "Leave it, I want to snoop around it later. Kyra, the infirmary. Now."

They are in the desired room an instant later, Bepo's bulky form deposited gently on one of the uncomfortable beds. The sorceress backs over to the door, out of the surgeon's way as he rushes around gathering tools. The bear turns his head to look at her, his face shifting into what might be concern.

"Are you okay, Kyra? You smell funny," he says, as though it is her lying in that bed with a chunk of steel inside her.

"I'm fine," she replies rather gruffly, averting her eyes down and wondering how she smells 'funny' to her crewmate's sensitive nose.

"Thanks for helping me."

Kyra shrugs, eyes still on the floor. She says nothing while Law works on Bepo. There is nothing to say. The bear is hurt because she had not been paying close enough attention, too busy gawking at her captain's wicked cool Devil Fruit abilities. If she had been watching like she should, Bepo would be just fine and the sliver of metal Law has just extracted would never have been in the bear's chest in the first place. She likes the big goof. He is the first of the crew who expressed any indication that he gave a shit about her. She should have been paying attention.

As soon as the captain says the word, the sulking sorceress comes over and lays her hands gently upon the bear's chest. She forces healing magic into him, carefully fixing any damage done and removing the blood that soaks his fur. When Kyra steps away with a nod, Bepo sits up and readjusts his suit so that he can once again zip it up. He seems to be completely fine, the only sign of his injury the blood that stains the orange fabric. Kyra puts a finger over the tear where the sword pierced the bear's clothing, mending it and getting rid of the blood in an instant.

"Thank you."

Kyra grunts, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she follows the captain and the first mate out of the infirmary. He shouldn't be thanking her. It's her fault he got hurt in the first place. Stupid bear.

It isn't until later that day, after Law has pilfered several folders worth of documents and a trunk stuffed with gold and belli from the Marine vessel, that he allows Kyra to sink it (which is accomplished by way of a solid sheet of magic slicing the ship in two, much to the amazement of the crew). The Surgeon of Death comes over to Kyra where she sits with the men in the galley and lounges in his usual chair. Those grey eyes are sparkling weirdly, giving Law the look of a kid who knows some totally awesome secret and refuses to share. No one else seems to notice, as the crew has broken out a large collection of alcohol to celebrate their victorious battle and the majority of them are already shit-faced drunk.

"And what has my magician in such a foul mood?" the Dark Doctor drawls. Kyra huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the table.

"PMS," she retorts dryly, frown carving deeper into her face when Law simple chuckles. "Why aren't you getting trashed with the rest of these idiots?"

Sachi and Penguin choose that moment to swoop over and crush Kyra between them in a hug.

_"Farewell to the harbor, to my old hometown!"_ they both simultaneously wail in her ears. _"Let's all sing out with_ _a DON as the ships set sail!"_

Kyra cringes, shielding enough to push the singing idiots off of her. Really, Bink's Sake? The drunks in the bars at Saboady would sing that stupid song almost continuously. She's pretty sure her ears are bleeding.

**_"YOHOHOHOOOOO, YO-HO-HO-HOOOO! **Y**OHOHOHOOOOO, YO-HO-HO-HO!"_** the entire crew bellows, mugs of beer smashing together in boisterous toasts and splashing the liquor all over the floor. The alcohol smell is starting to bug Kyra, so she stands from her chair and maneuvers through the singing crowd of drunks to head for the hatch and some fresh air. She notices immediately that Law is following her, but decides to ignore him until he says whatever he wants to say. Once outside, she walks over to the railing, turns around and sits with her back up against the cold metal and her legs stretched out in front of her. Turning her face towards the sky, Kyra takes a moment to bask in the sunshine, enjoying the warmth on her skin.

"You're upset about Bepo's injury earlier."

_Way to kill the peaceful mood at the outset, Law._

"Why is that?" he further prodes.

This is an excellent question. Why is Kyra so unhappy that Bepo was hurt earlier? Why has it put her in such a foul mood? Why can't she get rid of the image of the bear's dead body behind her eyelids every single time she blinks? Why does the thought of seeing those two idiots Sachi and Penguin lying lifeless at her feet make her want to vomit? Why does the thought of Law with a blade through his heart or a bullet through his head make her want to scream and pour bleach into her ears until she kills the mental picture?

Why? It's rather simple really. Kyra has made a mistake.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," she groans as means of both answer and self-remonstrance.

Kyra has let herself begin to care about these goddamn shitty fucking pirates, and somehow she just knows this is going to come back to bite her in the ass somewhere down the line.

* * *

><p>Law sits at his desk late into the night, poring over the documents he stole from the Marine. These are all files on his mysterious magician. Files that contain extensive notes in a masculine hand. Files that contain pictures.<p>

Pictures of his Kyra.

The information is fascinating. He is learning more useful things from reading these papers than he has in the time the subject of said papers has been a member of his crew. These are the cold hard facts the observent surgeon might never have uncovered by way of questioning and watching alone.

_Week 26, Day 2. Subject 769 underwent electroshock treatments today in an effort to draw out the black aura seen in previous experiments. Test ended in failure._

_Week 41, Day 5. Subject 769 exposed to batch of mixed chemicals. Lasted twelve hours before seizing. Damage to lungs and trachea._

_Week 87, Day 1. Subject 769 kills all but head of research R. Merrick. Other personnel spontaneously exploded while administering newest round of poisons._

_Week 98, Day 6. Head of research R. Merrick performs heart biopsy on Subject 769 without the administration of anesthetic. Surgical tools disintegrate midway through procedure._

_Week 124, Day 4. Subject 769 kills visiting researcher. Left hand driven through victim's chest. Punishment: locked in confined space with normal batch of mixed chemicals for the night._

769. Not once in any of the entries is Kyra referred to by anything other. There are six years, seven months, and three days worth of notes before the files end with a comment about the subject's escape. Attached to the files are official orders from the World Government to apprehend the pirate Demon Witch Kyra and place her in the custody of an Admiral, alive. The aforementioned pictures seem to be something of a growth chart, recording Kyra's height and weight for the approximate ages of twelve through eighteen. Law makes a mental note to get the girl on a weight scale sometime soon; the last recorded weight for her is severely under what is considered healthy for that height.

Law picks up the photograph of a twelve year old child. The facial features are easily identifiable as Kyra. Her eyes are what give the surgeon pause. They are so... old. He knows that Kyra has seen and experience much hardship in her life before joining his crew, but for a prepubescent to have the eyes of one at least fifty years her senior is very curious. What, he wonders, did Kyra go through as a young girl that she would look so world-weary just two years past her first decade?

Perhaps the answer has something to do with how she got those scars on her back, since they are not mentioned anywhere in the files of cataloged experiments. Perhaps it has something to do with how she became separated from her mother and was found washed up at the Navy docks of Saboady Archipelago. Law takes a moment to ponder what would be the best way to broach the subject, recalling that the last time he mentioned her scars his magician very aptly ignored the question. Funny how she told him about Merrick but won't say a word about what happened to her before then. He would have thought it would be the other way around. The Surgeon of Death laughs to himself; he should really stop trying to predict what Kyra will or will not do. He almost always ends up wrong, anyway.

Law is abruptly pulled from his thoughts by loud voices in the hall. Someone is banging on Kyra's door. Curious, the pirate rises from his seat at his desk and crosses to his own door, which he quietly pulls open. Sachi and Penguin stand across from him, the former knocking energetically upon the magician's door while the latter leans against the wall to his right and watches. Bepo is slowly ambling down the hall, something small and white clutched in his paws.

"C'mon, Kyra, open up!" Sachi calls, pounding his fist against the metal barrier a few times. "Bepo's got somethin' for ya! Open up already!"

That 'something' just happens to be Law's old hat. The bear had reclaimed it several hours ago, giving his captain a very similar cap with a short bill and the same white- and-brown-spotted fur. It is very comfortable to wear, and still provides an excellent amount of shadow from which to observe his surroundings without doing so in an obvious manner. Now it appears that Bepo has decided to gift the girl with his old one.

If she will come out of her room, that is.

After several more shouts from Sachi, the door cracks open enough for Kyra to stick her head out, her sopping wet curls dripping water onto the floor.

"Unless we're about to die, fuck off so I can finish my shower."

Sachi and Penguin both turn a shade very close to maroon as they all realize that Kyra has come to the door naked fresh from the shower. Sachi stutters incomprehensibly, waving a vague hand at Bepo until the giant ball of fluff ambles over and sticks out his paws. Even the bear's furry cheeks are miraculously tinged red - Law has often wondered if Bepo is the only bear in existence to possess the ability to blush.

Kyra doesn't seem to notice. "What's that?"

"Just a present," Bepo mumbles as the girl swiftly grabs the hat while trying not to accidentally show more skin than necessary. She blurts out a quick thanks and is about to shut the door when she freezes, recognizing Law's old hat now held in her hand. The door bangs shut again after a short pause.

Ten minutes later Law wanders into the kitchen in search of something to drink, smirking in Kyra's direction where she sits at the table with her hair wrapped in a towel and the hat in one hand. Bepo sits across from her, shaking his head as she whispers quietly and attempts to push the hat towards him. It would seem that the girl has decided to return the headwear after all.

"He won't care," Bepo assures her as Law busies himself in the liquor cupboard. "He said I could have it back when I gave him the new one, and I want you to have it. You're the only human on the crew that doesn't wear some kind of hat, and I wanted to give you something to say thank you for helping me after I got stabbed earlier. I've been meaning to give Captain that other hat soon, anyway. I've had it for a while."

Kyra is speaking so quietly that he is only able to pick up snippets of her words. "...Law's old hat... weird... please just..."

"But why?" Bepo inquires as Law pours a healthy measure of gin into a glass. "How is it weird? It's just Captain's old hat. Don't you like Captain?"

The pirate looks over his shoulder in time to catch his female subordinate's horrified expression. _Priceless._ He'll have to remember to get some fresh fish as a way to subtly thank Bepo for giving him something else to relentlessly tease Kyra about. She sees that he is watching and flips him the bird, much to his amusement.

"Smart-assed, sadistic, cruel, creepy, takes fiendish pleasure in annoying the hell out of me," Kyra drones, ticking the points off on her fingers. "Yeah, sure Bepo. What's not to like?"

"But don't you think he's handsome? Most human girls think Captain's really good looking."

"...Is this the part where you tell me that Law is really in to the whole bestiality thing, and you two have some kind of sick, kinky fuck-buddy relationship going on?"

Law, who has just taken a generous sip of his drink, promptly comes very near to spitting it out all over the the place.

"You're weird, Kyra."

"Well you two _are_ really close and you're harping on about how handsome he is! It sounded to me like-"

"You think he's handsome?"

"What? I didn't say that!" Kyra sounds mortified; Law would turn to look at her again, but he has yet to regain his composure after that last comment. "Are you like his bear-clone or something? Why do you two always twist my words around?"

"So does that mean you think I'm handsome too? Because you're really pretty for a human, but I like bears. Girl ones. I don't think a relationship would work very well between us."

Next comes the sound of something thunking repeatedly against a solid object. Picking up the gin bottle and taking out an extra glass, the Dark Doctor turns and walks to the table where Kyra is currently smacking her head against its surface yet again. He sets the extra glass down in front of her bowed head with a smirk, plopping comfortably into his own seat and giving himself a refill before pushing the gin towards her.

"How's the wound from earlier, Bepo?" he calmly asks his first mate, giving no indication that he has been listening to the previous conversation.

"Fine, Captain. Kyra healed it completely, so it doesn't hurt or anything."

The surgeon nods, pleased with this news, then reaches out to pick up the hat which Kyra has placed upon the table. "And what's so wrong with accepting my old hat, Kyra? It's very clean, I assure you."

His magician lifts her head off the table and looks at Law as though he is insane. "Men give their hat to a girlfriend. I'm not your fucking girl, Law. I don't want the hat."

"Ah, but technically, I'm not the one giving it to you," Law reminds her. "And as Bepo told you, his affections run for his own species rather than ours. So there's really no reason for you to feel as though you have to refuse it."

She sends him a truly spectacular death glare that has him smirking widely in reply. She can't know that the thought of her wearing his old hat is in fact very appealing to him. Kyra wears her mother's necklace and Mr. Merrick's signature; now she will don Law's hat and, hopefully soon, his Jolly Roger in the form of a tattoo. Now everyone who sees her will know without a doubt that the girl belongs to him. She can't possibly refuse the hat now that Law has handily brushed aside her main reason for rejecting it, not unless she wants to risk hurting the feelings of the extremely sensitive Bepo.

Sighing in resignation to her fate, Kyra reaches over and grumpily snatches the hat from Law, yanking the towel from her head and jamming the it down over her damp hair.

"There, happy?" she snaps. Across from her, Bepo beams.

"I'm glad you like it. Good night, Captain. Call me whenever you need to go to sleep, Kyra."

Kyra flinches as the bear ambles off, shooting another glare at Law. He says nothing, merely sips on his gin and smirks at her while enjoying the sight of his magician in his hat. He wonders for a moment how many obscenities she would spit at him if he were to request that she pull a rabbit from the furry cap.

Law decides to file that idea away for a later date.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" the girl accuses, eyes narrowed almost to slits.

"Nonsense. Whatever has made you so paranoid, my dear?"

He watches in amusement as she twitches at the endearment. "You're a bastard, have I told you that recently?"

"A handsome bastard whom you like."

She twitches again. "I did **_not_** say that! You were standing over there listening and failing to be sneaky! You heard what I said, you jerk!"

"I did. I'm flattered that you have such a high opinion of me, Kyra. I had no idea. You should have said something sooner, we've wasted quite a bit of time during which we could have been having... _fun."_

Law deliberately drops his voice an octave for the last word, immensely pleased when his magician shivers at the sound. She's so responsive to his verbal teasing that he doubts he will ever grow tired of it. Would she be as responsive to a different type of baiting...? Such a question calls for an experiment or two.

The Dark Doctor rises to his feet, amused to no ends when Kyra immediately does the same. He steps sideways towards her chair, watching through lazy eyes as she takes a cautious step in the other direction to counter. While tag might be entertaining in different circumstances, it is not conducive to the test he wishes to implement. It would be difficult to gauge Kyra's reaction to his touch if she runs from him.

"Room."

A relatively small sphere springs up around the pair just in time for Kyra to back into it. Law smirks smugly as he close the distance between them even as she tries to cringe further away, his hands planting on the blue barrier to either side of her head and his body crowding into hers. The surgeon leans in slowly, deliberately lowering his head until his mouth is centimeters from brushing against the skin of his magician's neck. Kyra flinches, both of her deceptively delicate hands coming up to his chest and attempting to shove him away. Her magic is apparently not cooperating, much to her obvious frustration if the angry growl is anything to go by. Smiling to himself, Law blows gently on the sensitive skin before him and watches as goose pimples spring to life.

_"What the fuck, Law!_ Get the fuck away from me, you creepy bastard!"

Law detests being ordered around. The Surgeon of Death parts his lips and allows the tip of his tongue to glide across his magician's skin, mentally cataloging the gasp-yelp hybrid that issues from her mouth. More wonderful blackmail material. The pirate very carefully takes a small amount of the girl's skin between his teeth, enjoying the taste of her and ignoring the fists pounding on his chest in protest.

**_"FUCKING SHIT TRAFALGAR LAW YOU GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I'LL MAKE YOU A EUNUCH!"_**

It's so delightfully simple to work her into a frenzy, but Law isn't finished yet. This is slightly too enjoyable to stop now, especially when one considers that Law has not had the pleasure of a woman since leaving saboady. He relinquishes the flesh in his mouth and gives it another tender lick, following Kyra's jerky sideways retreat until her head collides with his arm. Once more he blows upon her gently; once more she shivers and squeaks.

**_"STOP IT YOU ASSHOLE LEAVE ME ALONE!"_** Kyra howls, trying to duck under his arm. Law easily grabs her, spinning her so that her back presses against his chest and maneuvering so that he might once again sit in his vacated chair. He hugs the girl close to him and, temporarily relieving her of his old hat, buries his face in her cool damp curls that smell of lavender and iron and woman. She squirms against him, spewing vitriol at him as she struggles to pull herself from his grasp. This is quite the new experience for the fearsome physician, who is accustomed to women hanging all over him like parasitical vines. This change in the routine is really rather refreshing, not at all as off-putting as Kyra obviously intends it to be if the filth coming out of her mouth is anything to go by. Law grins mischievously, moving his hands until one is wrapped around both of her wrists and the other is firmly gripping her chin so he can turn her head towards him.

Time for another experiment.

His magician goes still and stiff as a board when Law lowers his lips to hers, kissing her chastely for a long moment before sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and laving it gently with his tongue. He preempts any attempts at pulling away by removing his hand from her chin and fisting it in the curls on the back of her head, keeping her right where he wants her. The girl's teeth are an impenetrable wall between him and the cavern of her mouth, but that's okay. Law contents himself with licking slowly around the available surface, pausing to take long pulls from her unresponsive lips. Sweet, she is addictively sweet.

He makes a last circuit with his tongue before slowly withdrawing, being sure to keep his iron grip on her hands and head so she doesn't decide to attack him. The pirate can't help but smirk at the look on her face, taking in her shock and her glazed blue eyes as she stares at him with her mouth hanging open and her lips deliciously swollen from his attentions.

Loosening his grip on her just a little, Law leans in and murmurs in her ear, so close his lips once again brush against her skin.

"Go to bed, Kyra. With Bepo or with me, it's up to you."

She disappears in a blur of magic the instant he lets go of her, leaving Law to smugly begin plotting his next little experiment. Oh, what fun he plans to have with his little magician.

* * *

><p>AN: In case you didn't notice, I changed the rating to M. Thank you Mikila94 for the review concerning rating. Please review.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Kyra has developed a profound grudge against raw electricity.<p>

The island Law is so calmly sailing towards is being bombarded by lightning. The sub is a giant metal conductor. Kyra is therefore being forced to shield it constantly to keep the entire crew from getting shocked to death. Oh, and lightning doesn't just harmlessly bounce off of the protective barrier - it is channeled into it, and the greatly reduced shock is then absorbed by the unhappy sorceress. Which of course has led to a severe headache, extreme nausea, and more than a couple of nosebleeds in the past twenty minutes that they've been within range of the storm that seems to constantly hover over their first New World island.

Fucking great.

Kyra sits alone at the table in the galley, her new hat pulled as low as possible over her eyes and thick wads of tissue jammed up her nose to slow the bleeding. Everyone else is up on deck, protected by her powers and eagerly watching as their island destination gets closer by the minute. Kyra doesn't need to watch; she can feel the electromagnetic field around the place getting stronger. What is Law going to do when they dock, anyway? Make her stay here to protect his sub from getting struck by lightning, thereby getting all the instruments on the vessel fried from the oversurge? Or will he want her to accompany the party that goes ashore, keeping its members from death by electrocution? She can do both, of course, but she has already decided not to tell her jackass of a captain that until he asks. Getting continually shocked from two different shields is going to suck majorly.

Aside from which, Kyra has been trying - and failing miserably - to avoid Trafalgar Law as often as possible since he sexually assaulted her last week after Bepo was wounded. Now she has the feeling he will insist that she join the group exploring the island simply so he can continue harassing her. Gods know the man's cruel enough to deny her a break. It doesn't help that after the fourth night her wonderfully fluffy bear-shaped pillow had told her that she should take turns sleeping with him and their cuddle-slut of a captain. Since there isn't a snowball's chance in Hell of that happening again anytime soon, the grumpy mage has not slept well in three nights and is beginning to feel the strain.

They should be docking any minute now. The static zapping against her skin, even as shielded as the ship currently is, sets off bolts of phantom pain that race from her skull down her spine. If she lets her thoughts slip, Kyra is sure she can hear _his_ voice mocking her as volt upon volt of electricity is applied to her brain by that thrice-damned contraption from the labs. She scowls and pulls her hat down lower over her aching eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the galley. They haven't even docked yet and already Kyra is more than ready to get the hell away from this place.

"Hey, Kyra! Get your sweet ass out of that chair and come on!" Sachi yells in a cheerful voice as he bangs his way into the room. Penguin follows, hands stuffed in the pockets of his suit. The sorceress twitches at the extra noise, which seems to jackhammer its way into her skull to bounce around in a manner reminiscent of Monkey D. Luffy on a sugar high. This does nothing to improve her already impressive headache. Kyra accidently lets out a whimper of pain before clamping her lips shut, hoping beyond hope that neither of her companions heard her.

"You okay? What's wrong?"

No such luck. Figures.

Instead of answering, Kyra slowly levers herself out of her seat and shuffles from the room. Sachi and Penguin follow close behind her as she makes her way to the deck, the former actually silent for once and the latter giving off vibes of concern. The constant flashing of lightning from outside nearly undoes her when she pushes open the hatch; the dizzy and nauseated sorceress is forced to grab onto the closest person while she tries not to throw up or pass out. Naturally, because Lady Luck is always ready and willing to fuck her over, the closest person just happens to be the current bane of her existence.

"What's wrong, my magician?" the Dark Doctor inquires, looping a supporting arm around her waist as Kyra fights the urge to purge. "Are you sick?"

Kyra waves a vague hand in the direction of the island, still trying not to vomit and not wanting to tempt fate by opening her mouth. She clenches her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut, willing her rebellious stomach to stop attempting to leap up her throat.

"The island is affecting you?"

She nods vigorously, glad beyond words that her captain is a genius instead of an idiot.

"That is going to pose a problem, I'm afraid. I need you with us on that very island to keep us from risking electrocution, and I need a shield around my sub to protect it from the same. You can hardly do that if you are unable to function for whatever reason." Law's voice holds a musing quality, as though he is thinking out loud more to himself than to her. Seeming to come to a sort of conclusion, the infuriating bastard proceeds to stoop down and sweep her legs out from under her, catching her in his arms and holding her bridal style against his chest. The sudden movement very nearly causes her to empty her stomach onto his hoodie, and she buries her face into the fabric with a groan as her head very strenuously objects to his actions.

"You'll come to the island with me. Bepo and Jambarl will join us. Can you move the sub a safe distance so that the rest of my crew can wait for us to return?"

"Put me down or I'll puke on you," Kyra blurts out in a rush before once again sealing her lips against a rush of bile. Somewhere off to the side, she hears a few of the men start laughing hysterically.

"Please move the ship. I'm very curious to see what type of people live on such an island."

Gah, Law has such a wonderful habit of ignoring her politely phrased requests. Desperate to get away from this place even for a moment, Kyra unleashes her hold on the power within and lets it burst out. The submarine is instantly wrapped in a giant black sphere and blinks out of existence, appearing again miles away in a handful of seconds. As soon as the magic dissapates Kyra's nose starts bleeding more fiercely than ever before, but she isn't about to complain. The nausea and the crippling headache fade almost immediately, much to her relief. She removes her face from where it is buried in her captain's shoulder and takes a gulp of the fresh, clean, electricity-free air.

"Shit," she gasps, managing to wiggle enough to get her feet back on the ground while Law stubbornly keeps hold of her waist. "I don't like that place. Fucking lightning."

Removing her nose plugs, the sorceress pulls out a wad of tissue and quickly jams the fresh stuff in before she drips blood all over the place. That done, she glares over at the resident Supernova and tries to pry his long fingers off her hip. The man simply smirks and pulls her closer. She then elbows him hard in the solar plexus, instantly knocking the air from his lungs and causing his grip to loosen enough for her to jerk free.

"We're ten miles away from the outer rim of the island's magnetic field. Is it just four of us going back?"

It takes a moment before Law answers, which is no surprise considering how hard she just elbowed him. "Just the four of us, yes. The others will wait here until we return. Will you be able to keep us protected from that storm?"

Kyra grimaces at the question, looking off in the direction of the island as she nods. "Yeah. I'll just feel like shit the whole time we're there. For some reason my shield doesn't seem to repel lightning; it's absorbing it or something and I keep getting shocked. Being near that place makes me queasy as hell and gives me a headache like you wouldn't believe."

A tanned palm is laid flat against her forehead, pushing up under her hat while the other hand wraps around her throat from behind. Momentarily panicked at this possible attack, Kyra jerks forward in an attempt to get away only to be pulled firmly back. The hands do nothing to hurt her, lingering for just a moment before withdrawing. The mage spins around as soon as she is free to pin Law with a killing glare.

"Could you _refrain_ from giving me a fucking heart attack?"

"You're not running a fever, and your pulse seems fine," the insufferable surgeon informs her as though she had never spoken. "We'll simply have to complete our business promptly so that you won't be exposed to the lightning for long. Were you having trouble breathing while close to the island?"

"No," Kyra grumbles, self-consciously readjusting her furry hat. Law sees this and grins, pulling his own cap down a miniscule amount while beckoning to Bepo and Jambarl with a free hand.

"Gable, let me have the Log Pose. All of you stay out of trouble. If another ship approaches the island, I want you to dive. Do not engage them. We'll be back once the Log Pose sets."

"Aye, Captain!"

The gigantic man and the polar bear amble over as Law slips his arm back around Kyra's waist, each of them moving to touch her as though afraid she might drop them mid-teleport if they don't. She could probably send them to one of the levels of that prison, Impel Down, if she wants to whether they touch her or not. Nevertheless, as soon as her captain gives the signal Kyra lets her magic loose again and takes them all back to that gods-be-damned island, landing just past the tiny docks and making sure that a shield is around them for protection. The Surgeon of Death doesn't bother to acknowledge any of the people near the docks who have stopped whatever they were doing to stare; he simply uses his hold on her to propel Kyra along up a dirt path to a ramshackle village, Jambarl and Bepo following close behind.

They've been on the island less than five minutes and already Kyra feels like puking. Her headache is back worse than ever, and halfway up the main street in the village she realizes that she is practically leaning on Law for balance. Ugh, what is this place? How can anyone actually live here without getting killed? All the people the sick mage has seen so far are going about their business with nothing more for protection than standard umbrellas, as though it's simply raining instead of unleashing deadly bolts of lightning every two seconds. How is an umbrella possibly going to help anyone in this type of situation? Kyra hears the sound of a child laughing and is mildly horrified to see children running around playing with each other in this storm, every one of them bearing their own umbrella. What the hell?

Law goes straight for the town's bar, leaving Kyra curious as to just how in Roger's name he seems to know where it is without asking directions. As soon as they cross the threshold of the building and are safely inside, she lets her shield drop. The headache does not abate, though now that she isn't being continually jolted the nausea fades a little. The pirate quartet finds seats at the bar, the patrons in the building following every movement with curious eyes. Bepo especially seems to be drawing a great deal of attention, which is plainly making him uncomfortable if the way he is trying to subtly hide behind Jambarl's hulking figure is anything to go by. The bartender, a wizened old geezer with tufts of white hair sticking out of his ears and providing the only hair on an otherwise bald head, shuffles over to take their orders.

"Saké, for the four of us."

Kyra shoots Law a venomous look. The last time she was anywhere near saké, the Heart Pirate captain got disturbingly frisky with her. He better not try a damn thing here - she'll toss his ass outside with no protection.

The ancient barkeep soon presents them with drinks, his hands shaking noticeably as he slides the decorative cups to each of them. Kyra's eyes narrow in suspicion when the old man glances nervously over to the side, and she is quick to grab Law's wrist before the pirate can take a sip. He turns to her with a raised brow, setting the cup on the bar and motioning for the other two to wait.

"Is there a problem, Kyra?"

Kyra does not reply immediately, instead twisting her torso so that she might look in the direction the barman is now staring. Most all the other people in this bar have gone back to ignoring the newcomers, having long since become accustomed to a stream of visiting pirates. One group, however, is sitting at the far corner in the shadows and observing the four with blatant interest. One look at them, one second to remember where she has seen these men before, and she has her answer as to what has just taken place.

The Kidd Pirates are sitting in the dark corner of the bar, and unless Kyra is very much mistaken, their fashion-retard of a captain has just attempted to poison Law's group.

Kyra turns back to Law and waves a hand, causing the liquid in the four cups to vanish as the bottle in the bartender's hands disappears as well.

"Your boyfriend from Saboady is sitting in the corner over there," she informs the Dark Doctor casually, as though she didn't just possibly save his life by keeping him from consuming poison liquor. "He wants to say hi."

She jerks a thumb in the enemy's general direction, knowing the second Law sees them from the black look that momentarily darkens his handsome features.

"Ah yes, Mr. Eustass," he murmurs, rising smoothly from his barstool and reaching to grasp Kyra's hand. "Shall we return his salutations?"

"If you don't want him dead yet now's the time to say," Kyra replies, following along as her captain moseys across the room towards one of his more powerful rivals. "The dick did just try to poison me."

"No killing him. If he dies in a fight with the Heart Pirates, Mr. Eustass will fall by my hand."

She has to fight the urge to pout. "Spoilsport."

Law smirks. "Play nicely, my magician."

"Fuck you."

Kyra is saved from the pervert's reply when the pair of them step up to the table at which Eustass "Captain" Kidd sits with his crew. The redhead is grinning crazily at them, while his men bear expressions ranging from curious to cautious to bored to terrified. A man wearing a polka-dot black shirt with long, spiky blonde hair has his face hidden behind a blue-and-white striped mask, hiding his reaction to their appearance from the curious mage. So this is "Massacre Soldier" Killer of the Supernova fame, the man worth a bounty of 162,000,000 belli, last Kyra checked. The double scythes for which he is so feared are propped up on the wall right behind his seat, easily within reach should he need them. He does not appear terribly concerned at the moment, sitting there calm as you please with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, well, well," Kidd drawls out, amber eyes going lazily from Law to Kyra and back. "If it isn't the Surgeon of Death and his little live-in whore. How you been, Trafalgar?"

Kidd's full mug explodes in his grip, showering his pants with booze. Law merely smirks while Kyra glares at the redhead, fingers twitching against the desire to make _him_ explode too.

"Call me a whore again, I dare you," she growls, her headache pounding worse than ever. "I'll do women everywhere a favor and remove the part of your anatomy that makes you a man, you ugly okama-wannabe."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Eustass," her captain cuts in smoothly. "Might I ask what it was you convinced the barman to slip into our drinks?"

Kidd gives a sinister grin. "And what's it matter now, Trafalgar, since you didn't drink it anyway?"

"Well, depending on your answer, Mr. Eustass, I'll decide whether I'm going to someday remove your spleen or your kidneys."

Kyra instantly traps every other man at that table in their seats, insuring that none but Kidd is able to move so much as a muscle. Killer had tensed a second ago; she has no intention of allowing him to get his hands on those wickedly sharp blades of his. The other freaks are probably harmless, but better safe than sorry.

"Answer him or I'll rip your balls off and shove them down this guy's throat," she orders softly, jerking her head in Killer's direction. The Massacre Soldier is plainly straining against the hold of her powers, the muscles all over his body visibly bulging as he struggles to move. His fight is in vain, as Kyra's magic easily holds him in his seat with no visible effort from the sorceress.

"You threatenin' me, bitch?" Kidd hisses, slowly rising from his chair with an ugly look on his face. "How fucking stupid are you? You fogotten who I am?"

"Eustass Kidd, Captain of the Kidd Pirates," Kyra recites in a deliberately bored tone. "I hear you're such a good one-off lay that the Marines'll pay 315,000,000 belli to anybody nice enough to get you in their beds. That's a pretty damn expensive okama, if you ask me, but I guess there's no accounting for taste."

"BITCH!"

Eustass Kid freezes midlunge, hands still outstretched to presumably grab Kyra and inflict grievous bodily harm. Sadly, his body from the neck down is no longer under his control, leaving him no recourse but to spew filth from his lipstick-reddened mouth. His intended victim yawns theatrically.

"You _honestly_ wanna spend the rest of your life singing the high notes?"

Really, how stupid is this guy? He tries to poison her captain and thinks there won't be hell to pay? He's just freaking lucky Law has already claimed his life, or he would be dying an extremely painful death right about now.

...Not that she gives a shit about _Law,_ of course, the perverted bastard.

"Oh, it's not really important anymore, Kyra," Law concedes, an amused gleam in his lazy grey eyes. "I think Mr. Eustass has been sufficiently humiliated for his little stunt. Why don't you simply tell me how long it takes the Log Pose to set here, Mr. Eustass,and possibly explain how it is you are walking around this island without getting struck by lightning. Just a few easy answers and we'll leave you to your drinks."

"Go fuck yourself, Trafalgar, and take your little squeeze with you!"

How _dare_ he say that to her captain? Where the fuck does he get off ordering Law to do a damn thing?

So preoccupied is she with her animosity, Kyra almost misses when Killer's scythes twitch ever so slightly from their position against the wall. Suddenly remembering who she is dealing with, Kyra makes a fist with one hand. The already pale Kidd somehow manages to go even whiter, his jaw dropping open and a single high-pitched whine coming out. Over in his seat, Killer redoubles his silent efforts to free himself and once again fails to make any headway. His boss gets the message, though, and the huge scythes settle down from his magnetic grip.

"You might want to answer that one, pal, or something much more valuable to you than a mug of beer is going to be blowing up in your lap."

Kidd gapes in pained silence for a long moment, every drop of color leeched from his face.

"Few hours," he finally rasps. "Umbrellas."

"Whatever you're doing to my captain, stop at once or die, woman."

Kyra nonchalantly releases Kidd from her hold, letting him cup his hands protectively over the family jewels so that she can turn her attention back to the Massacre Soldier currently stuck to a chair. She wonders what kind of reaction she would get from him if she magically removed that mask of his. She has a feeling he would be pissed.

"Kinda hard to kill someone when you can't stand up or move, isn't it?"

Killer says nothing.

An arm goes over her shoulders and forces her to turn, steering her back towards the bar where Bepo and Jambarl are waiting. Kyra goes without a fuss, carefully keeping the Kidd Pirates pinned down so that they can't attack while her back is turned. The barman has made himself scarce, and Law doesn't bother to call for him when he sits back down and motions for the mage to do the same.

"Could you possibly put your considerable talents to good use and fetch us something to drink that hasn't been tampered with?" he requests pleasantly. Kyra gives him a dark look before waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. A few seconds later a large pitcher of beer and four clean cups are sitting in front of them.

"I trust you around saké about as much as I trust those assholes over there not to leap up and kill us first chance they get. So they can sit there and fume until we go back to the sub in a few hours and you can put up with beer. Don't fuck with me today, Law; I get cranky when I have a headache."

For reasons beyond her comprehension, Law proceeds to throw back his head and laugh.

* * *

><p>This has been a highly entertaining day, and Trafalgar Law is in a very good mood.<p>

True, he had not anticipated the effects the lightning all around the island he has just left would have on his magician, and nearly getting poisoned by Eustass Kidd had not been on the day's itinerary. However, Kidd has been dealt with quite beautifully, and aside from fatigue there does not seem to be any lasting harm done to Kyra. The Dark Doctor will be the first to admit, the girl had looked absolutely eerie even to him back in that bar when she magically grabbed Kidd's balls like that. At the same time, he finds himself further intrigued by someone who readily and freely drew the wrath of the highest marked Supernova just because of a few vulgar comments.

The fact that he directed her to take them to Kidd's ship and then ransacked the South Blue native's treasure trove probably won't help that animosity die down any time soon. Especially considering Kyra's brilliant idea to paint the Surgeon of Death's Jolly Roger all over the ship with Kidd's own lip coloring, found in the captain's quarters. Yes, steering clear of 'Captain' Kidd for the foreseeable future is doubtless a wise idea.

He sits at the table in the galley, a small grin on his face as he listens to his magician recount the story of their day to Sachi and Penguin. The two friends are visibly amused, both of them laughing uproariously when Kyra tells them how Law scrambled the men left aboard Kidd's vessel as lookouts and how she later put lipstick from Kidd's rooms on the mouth of every one of them. Kyra looks equally amused, though much more tired than usual.

"Yeah, that way he'll know exactly who did it even if he's too stupid to guess from the scrambled crewmates," she assures Sachi, a sleepy smile lighting up her face. "Before we left, I asked Law's permission to write 'Law and his Demon Witch were here' in that red lipstick all over the door to the captain's quarters."

Penguin has a disgruntled look on his face that Law finds amusing.

"Can't believe they gave that pansy a higher bounty than our captain," the man mutters, clearly annoyed. "Captain's much more terrifying than some queer who wears make-up. Guy's a total loser; Captain's way more deserving of a higher bounty."

Kyra frowns momentarily, shooting a guarded look in the smirking surgeon's direction. "You go around butchering civilians?"

Raising one eyebrow at the question, Law shakes his head in the negative. His magician visibly relaxes, the smile instantly returning to her face.

"Oh, well that explains it," she informs them. "Kidd has no problem killing anybody breathing. That's why his bounty's so high, because he kills civilian of both sexes and all ages. He's just a slaughter-happy freakshow."

Law watches and listens for the next half hour or so as his three subordinates chat. His mind, however, is revolving around his magician and her amazing tendency towards stubbornness. The Dark Doctor knows very well that Kyra has not had someone to keep her company for the past three nights - he is the one who ordered Bepo to cease his side occupation as a security blanket until further notice. The girl has been trying with increasing desperation to avoid Law as much as possible this past week, and taking away her overgrown teddy bear was his attempt to force her to come to him. It is only slightly surprising that this plan has so far failed. Kyra, he is sure, is uneasy and slightly afraid of Law after his actions that night here in this galley; it is only natural that she would rebel against good sense and silently suffer sleep deprivation rather than approach the person whom she fears. However, after today with the way that lightning had affected his magician, the surgeon does not intend to let her continue to hide. She will need to sleep, which means she will be sharing a bed with him whether she likes it or not. Something drastic will be required to remedy this situation.

An idea comes to the doctor. Well, he is a pirate, after all. Ruthless measures are part of the job description.

Having so decided, Law temporarily vacates the galley to make a quick trip to his infirmary. When he returns, he finds that Sachi and Penguin have apparently retired for the night and the girl is slumped low over the table with her hat discarded next to her. Those dangerous hands are pressed over her eyes, rubbing harshly as though such an action will banish her tiredness. Such a silly, stubborn little girl his magician is.

She doesn't lower her hands when he comes up behind her and weaves his fingers into her hair. Law tangles his digits in her curls, recalling what she said about how her mother once did something similar. Grinning slightly, the Supernova bends to put his mouth by Kyra's ear.

"Time to sleep, Kyra," he whispers to her, enjoying the shiver that courses through the girl's figure.

"Wha-"

Kyra is unable to say more, as Law has clamped his free hand and the chloroform-soaked cloth within it over the lower half of her face. She struggles viciously for a moment before going limp, dead to the world thanks to the chemical now in her system. Law pockets the rag and removes the single glove he is wearing, placing it in a separate pocket before carefully lifting the sleeping girl and heading for his room.

He might be going just the tiniest bit overboard, drugging her to knock her out like this, but is the surgeon really to blame when the silly woman is hurting herself with her stubbornness?

Not to his way of thinking.

When he wakes up early the next morning and feels her stirring, the Dark Doctor gives a smug and sleepy grin before wrapping himself around his magician like an extra blanket. It has been a quiet night; Kyra slept without a peep, nestled in Law's bed, covered in his sheets and using his chest as a pillow. No nightmares, no restlessness. The pirate is quite pleased with himself and the result of this particular experiment. He is now definitely proven correct in his theory that companionship is necessary for Kyra if she wants to sleep without her subconscious terrorizing her. The perks for him are very pleasant - he's obviously not going to complain about having the opportunity to snuggle with a half naked lady. True, he had been the one to remove Kyra's trousers before slipping into bed with her the night before, but he knows from observation that pantless is Kyra's preference when sleeping.

"Whuzzgoin - wha - WHAT THE **_FUCK,_** LAW? YOU _BASTARD,_ DID YOU **_DRUG ME_** LAST NIGHT? _**I'LL KILL** **YOU!"**_

Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens.

"Good morning, my magician," Law purrs into her hair, still grinning and keeping a tight hold on the girl. She is currently doing a very good impression of an eel with all of her wiggling, obviously attempting to free herself from her captain's arms. Such insubordination she shows. "I'm happy to inform you that you have slept a solid eight hours for once. Do you feel better rested than you have lately? I can't have my crew suffering from exhaustion."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH I'LL KILL YOU GET THE FUCK OFF ME BASTARD!"

"Now, now," he chides her in a gentle, mocking tone, moving so that he might rub his cheek against the side of her head just to annoy her. "That's not a very smart way to speak to your captain, is it Kyra?"

To his surprise, Kyra actually throws her head violently towards him, striking his chin with her skull as he attempts to pull back. His grip loosens just a little, but that is enough for her to pry herself free. In an instant she is on him, her hands around his throat and her blue eyes glinting madly as she squeezes. Law takes a moment to admire her in all her righteous fury before bringing his own hands up and easily breaking her hold, rolling them so that he has her pinned to the mattress with both her wrists locked securely in the grip of one hand, straddling her so that she can't kick. Kyra lunges up as best she can, snapping her teeth at his neck, looking wild with her desire to hurt him.

"Fuck you, shitty fucking magic!" she suddenly screams, fighting madly to free herself. "He fucking drugged me! Just like _he_ always did! I'll kill him! Help me, dammit! You're supposed to fucking help me!"

Ah, bless his magician's magic. Its refusal to cooperate with Kyra's attempts to cause him grievous harm really is much appreciated.

"What the hell did you do to me, you sick bastard? Why won't it protect me from you? _What did you do to me?"_ Kyra has worked herself into quite a frenzy now. Such stress really isn't good for her. Law watches her squirm beneath him in her futile struggle to get away, keeping quiet for the moment, knowing full well nothing he says to her while she is in such a state is going to register anyway. He'll just have to wait until she runs out of steam. He keeps a firm grip on her wrists, puts his free hand on her hip while she tries her damnedest to buck him off. She'll stop eventually, and then Law can ask her why she assumes he did something to coerce her precious powers into siding with him whenever the two of them argue.

It is some time later that his magician lies still and quiet beneath him. Still but for the shudders; quiet but for the gasps that might be sobs.

"Are you calm now, Kyra?" Law asks, low and serious, putting his face close to hers. The girl has closed her eyes tightly against the world, but he knows that she will feel the hot puffs of his breath against her face. Kyra shudders, turning her head away from him, trying to hide behind her captive arm as a single tear creeps from the corner of one eye down her cheek. Law removes his hand from her hip and brushes the tear away with his thumb.

"You drugged me, you fucker," Kyra rasps, her voice hoarse from all the yelling she has done.

"Chloroform. You've been foolishly stubborn lately, and your insomnia would soon have begun having ill effects on you. As both your captain and your doctor, I will not allow you to hurt yourself out of sheer stupidity. If you refuse to sleep in my bed of your own volition, then I will make you."

"Why can't you just mind your own fucking business, Law?"

He takes his hand off of her cheek and fists it in her hair, jerking her head back and startling her into opening those pretty blue eyes. He watches as she takes in his proximity, watches as she tries to shrink into his bed to put some distance between them. He follows, leaning down so close their noses actually bump together.

"What you don't seem to realize yet, Kyra, is that you belong to me," the Surgeon of Death explains pleasantly. "You are _my_ magicain, _my_ subordinate, _mine._ As such, anything that might be considered _your_ business is also automatically _my_ business. Your health is my business. Your life is my business. As you so aptly put it in your little message to Mr. Eustass, you are _my_ Demon Witch, and therefore anything remotely pertaining to you is also important to me."

"I'm not a fucking possession!" Kyra snaps, jerking her head to the side in what is probably a bid to shake his fingers out of her hair. "You don't own me, I don't belong to anybody! I DON'T! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I DON'T CARE WHAT THE FUCKING MAGIC SAYS! _**I DON'T BELONG TO YOU!"**_

Her powers are somehow telling her that she belongs to Law?

Oh how very, very interesting.

"This magic of yours must have really taken a shine to me," Law muses speculatively. "It refuses to attack me, and now you say it insists that you belong to me. Perhaps you should listen to it."

She makes a sound like a cat that has just had its tail stepped on, baring her teeth at him in an animalistic warning. Sadly for her, the twisted surgeon finds this rather endearing. It would be hard for him to find it threatening, when he is firmly pinning the girl's warm body to his bed and has her thoroughly incapacitated.

"Why does it bother you so much?" he questions, moving to press his ear against her neck so that he can listen to her racing pulse. "The thought of belonging to me. Why does it have your heart pounding so hard? Why are you so afraid?"

And Law looks up in time to witness his magician snapping.

"BECAUSE I CAN'T LET MYSELF CARE! I CAN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU BECAUSE IF I DO IT'LL BLOW UP IN MY FACE! BECAUSE ANY TIME I LET MYSELF GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE THEY DIE OR DISAPPEAR AND I CAN'T DO THAT ANYMORE! I CAN'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT YOU WHEN MY MOTHER'S OUT THERE ALONE SOMEWHERE AND I'LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN! I CAN'T CARE WHEN YOU'RE A FUCKING PIRATE AND MERRICK KNOWS I'M WITH YOU AND HE'LL TORTURE YOU JUST TO HURT ME! I CAN'T CARE **_WHEN I'M NOTHING BUT A FUCKING MONSTER AND BEING AROUND ME'LL JUST GET YOU KILLED!"_**

She is sobbing, salty tears pouring down flushed cheeks to soak into Law's sheets. The door to his room suddenly bursts open and Bepo rushes in, plainly just having woken and not dressed at all.

"Captain-are-you-okay-what's-going-on-what's-wrong-with -"

Black magic rips through the room, plunging all three of them into darkness. There is a strange sucking sound, like the plug being removed from a bathtub drain; the pirate hears Kyra screaming - "GET ME OUT OF HERE I DON'T CARE WHERE JUST GET ME OUT OF -!" - and then silence in the hazy onyx cloud. When it clears, Law finds himself alone in his bed with his first mate still standing in the doorway. Something clenches in his gut. Standing, the Dark Doctor brushes past Bepo and jerks open the door on the opposite side of the hall, bolting inside and looking around. The room is empty. The duffel that always sits propped against the wall next to the bed is gone. A quick search of the bathroom shows that all toiletry items are missing.

And so is Law's magician.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Kyra's situation is this: there is a hugely fat man standing over her, gnawing on a piece of meat the size of her head even as he yells to his captain about how there is suddenly a half-naked girl on board. In seconds it seems that the entire crew has heard him and come to gawk.<p>

Bottom line? She's still better off than being back with Law.

She finds herself curled into a ball on rough wooden planking, satchel of belongings hugged fiercely to her chest as she tries to figure out just where the hell her powers decided to dump her and just why in the world she isn't wearing any pants. Someone touches her shoulder and the sorceress tenses, pushing out a shield and shoving the crowd of curious pirates away from her. She spies the legs of the trousers she wore yesterday out of her peripheral vision and snags the cloth, awkwardly managing to put them on without standing up.

Belatedly Kyra realizes that she has yet to cease crying, that tears are still dripping off of her face and drawing a lot of attention from the men currently staring at her. She wonders again where exactly she's ended up. None of the men in her immediate line of sight are at all familiar.

"Hey, kid."

Now that _is_ a familiar voice. Kyra clumsily pushes herself to her feet, protective barrier still firmly in place, and turns to face the speaker.

"Are you alright?" Red-Haired Shanks regards her from outside the barrier, his single hand resting gently on it's surface as kind eyes scan her body for injuries. Kyra doesn't answer, too busy mentally tearing her magic a new one for its colossal stupidity. She demands that it take her somewhere safe and it dumps her on the ship of a Yonkou? What kind of screwed-up logic is that?

The distraught mage digs her fingers tighter into the fabric of her satchel, pushing it hard against her chest as she contemplates where she should really go. She can't go back to Saboady; she killed a bunch of Marines there not long before Marineford and the Navy might be smart enough to think to keep an eye on the place. Should she just start hopscotching from island to island? Cross her fingers and hope that maybe someday soon she'll have a random stroke of luck and end up on the island of her birth, where her mother might still be?

Maybe she'll go pop in on Straw Hat Luffy and his brother. At least then the mage can be reasonably sure that nobody will attempt to molest her.

"Talk to me, kid," that same soothing voice pleads. Kyra snaps out of her thoughts to once again focus on Shanks, still standing there with his hand pressing against her shield and an almost kicked-puppy look on his rather handsome face.

"You remember me, right kid? I'm Shanks. We talked briefly at Marineford. I know we didn't really take the time for introductions that last visit, but better late than never right? Why don't you come out of there so we can get to know each other, okay?"

Kyra snarls at him, showing teeth. It takes a moment before she realizes that she's also crouched in a defensive position, slowly backing towards the ship's railing while crushing her satchel to her chest. Her shield shoves any pirates in her way in random directions. There is much shouting and general chaos as the crimson-haired Yonkou tries again to talk to her.

"Wait, that's not what I meant! You're way too young for me!"

Her fucking powers are not letting her leave. She is pressed up against the railing, watching the older man like a hawk as he eases towards her. Kyra doesn't want to kill him - from what she can tell, Shanks is that rare breed of truly decent man - but that doesn't mean she won't break a few bones if she has to. He's not going to lay so much as a finger on her. She'll take his last remaining arm off if he tries anything.

Shanks doesn't seem to be concerned about his wellbeing. He comes close enough to reach out and put his hand back on her shield. The sorceress snarls again, lashing out a little to hit him with a whip of magic hard enough to cut his cheek. The notorious scoundrel hurriedly takes a step back, waving his men down with that one hand even as he gives her a sheepish look.

"I just freaked you out, huh, kid? Sorry about that. Benny likes to remind me on a daily basis that I tend to stick my foot in my mouth every time I try to be dashingly debonair for the ladies. Would you believe me if I promised that none of my guys will lay a hand on you? Pirate's honor, kid, nothin' better." He plants his hand on his heart and grins so widely it's a miracle his cheeks don't crack. The Yonkou doesn't seem to care that she just attacked him, or that there's blood running down the side of his face. Nor does he bother to concede that pirates by the nature of their profession have no honor, which means that promise he's just given he is completely empty.

Kyra doesn't give a shit if he is lying or not. She doesn't plan to stick around long enough for anyone to try any funny business. So it's back to Amazon Lily. She'll go let Straw Hat drive her crazy for a few days, fend off his brother's possible questions about La... about the Surgeon of Death and why he's not with her. That she can deal with. Those two young men won't be a threat to her, not considering how much they owe her. So decided, the sorceress pulls her magic inwards and teleports away, to an island inhabited by warrior women and currently playing host to a pair of reckless boys with chips on their shoulders.

...Or at least that's what should happen. In reality, Kyra doesn't go anywhere. Her powers ignore her wishes except to keep her shielded, leaving her stranded on a strange ship with a strange pirate crew and no way to leave unless she feels up for a very long swim.

Fuck it.

"Kyra," the unhappy woman croaks in defeated reply as she finally lowers her shield, wishing desperately for water immediately afterwards. "My name is Kyra."

A happy-go-lucky grin instantly spreads across the dangerous pirate's visage, and his hand is withdrawn from her shield so that he can turn to his men.

"Alright, guys! This is my good pal Kyra! We met back at Marineford, but never got to carry out my tried and true good-pal-welcoming ritual because those idiots from the Navy were loitering around. You know what that means, right guys?"

Kyra glances around, a terrible feeling of foreboding lodging her heart in her throat. The protective encasing flies up around her again without conscious thought, and she waits with growing fear for Red-Haired Shanks to pronounce her sentence.

**_"PARTY!"_**

...What?

Apparently she is the only one at a loss. In seconds the crowd around her has dispersed, presumably to set up this party the red-haired captain has decided to throw. Kyra finds herself left on the deserted deck, alone but for Shanks and a tall man with short grey hair that looks like it was cut with a dull knife who has a cigarette clamped between his lips. The carefree grin is gone from the Yonkou's face, replaced by a kind smile.

"You're way too skinny, kid. My buddy Lucky'll fatten you up in no time. Oh, this is Benn Beckman, or Benny, my first mate and conscience," he informs her, waving that lone hand in the taller man's direction. 'Benny' gives a nod and a faint quirk of the lips that might be a hesitant smile. Kyra looks at him, takes in the eyes and the rifle tucked awkwardly through the yellow sash at his waist, and makes a mental note to kill him first if the shit hits the fan.

"C'mon, kid, pop the bubble and let me show you around! Our ship is awesome, you'll love it. Then we can party and you can tell us about yourself," Shanks blathers cheerfully. "I'll even tell you about the time I put red hair dye in all the shampoo after everybody started callin' us the Red-Haired Pirates, because I was the only one who actually had red hair and it was kinda lonely."

His first mate snorts inelegantly. "You put _pink_ hair dye in our shampoo because you have a child's sense of humor. You've never managed to mature mentally past the age of twelve."

"Benny! You can't just go insulting me in front of a pretty girl we barely know! She might take you seriously!" Shanks looks positively scandalized at the very idea. "Honestly, Beckman, how many times have we had this conversation?"

"Often enough that you should know it's pointless by now, Captain. It's only right that someone warn the ladies about you immediately, lest you scar them for life."

Kyra's damn magic has landed her on a ship of apparent lunatics. How wonderful.

Roughly an hour later, with the impromptu party in full swing and every single one of the pirates aside from Beckman and Kyra well on their way to being shit-faced drunk, the sorceress amends her observation as she carefully juggles several laughing men in the air with her powers - per their requests. These people aren't just lunatics, they're alcoholic lunatics with serious mental issues.

"Flip me over again, kid!" the weirdo of a captain shouts from his place floating near the top of the mast, his face flushed with drink and laughter. Kyra complies with his demand, much to his evident pleasure if the noise he is making is anything to go by. She feels like she is surrounded by very large children with freakishly deep voices. They have not yet asked her questions they should be demanding, like where the hell she popped up from and why the hell she's here in the first place. They aren't locking her in a room somewhere, or hiding anything from her like she expected; in fact she's been given a tour of the entire ship, top to bottom and including every single room. They have heaped food and drink upon her and regaled her with stories that are at least three quarters bullshit if the first mate's long-suffering expression is any indication. These have to be the most trusting pirates Kyra has ever heard of.

Not to mention the stupidest.

"Sorry about him," the grey-haired first mate mutters with a casual shrug of powerful shoulders up towards his laughing captain. "He's kind of immature."

No shit.

"He's trying to get you in a good mood before he asks why you appeared out of thin air on our ship," Beckman continues nonchalantly. Kyra flinches, her attention wavering enough that at a series of shouts she is forced to quickly refocus before all the men flying around in the air can hit the deck. She sets them down gently, eyeing Shanks as he bounces up to her with a massive smile.

"Benny! You undid all my hard work!"

Beckman shrugs again, looking supremely unconcerned. Shanks gives a loud laugh as he guiltily rubs the back of his head. "Okay, so maybe I'm a little curious as to how and why you magically appeared on the ship, but it's not like I'll kick you off if you don't want to tell me! Benny makes me sound so uncharitable!"

Kyra bristles at that last word, not liking its implications. "I don't want your charity. I didn't mean to come here; I'll leave as soon as my abilities start listening to me again. I've been trying to leave since I got here, okay? I won't make you pander to the freak any longer than absolutely necessary."

Shanks looks completely confused. "What freak? Wait, are you talking about _you,_ kid? You're not a freak!"

"Right, I'm a fucking poster child of normality," Kyra spits at him, the burning rage that swelled inside her at La - her ex-captain's betrayal rearing its ugly head again. She can't even bear to think the man's name, so great is her hurt at the remembrance of the fact that he drugged her. Anything else she would have just bitched about before getting over it, but not this. Not being drugged, being toyed with like that by someone she's... sort of grown to care for. A little bit. Maybe.

But that's beside the point. Not like it matters anyway; as she told the guy before officially leaving his crew, any time she's grown to care about anyone they end up dead or beyond her reach. Kyra did him a favor when she left this morning. She did them all a favor. She's a freak and a monster, and being around her will never be safe for anybody.

Screw that creepy sadist anyway. He'll surely have no problem finding something else to entertain himself with.

A weathered and calloused hand waves up and down in front of her face, snapping the brooding sorceress back to the present where Shanks is regarding her with concern.

"You okay, Kyra? I just gave an amazingly impressive speech about how being normal is terribly boring, but I doubt you heard a word of it."

"Don't patronize me," she hisses angrily. "Don't tell me what I am or am not. You don't know shit about me, Red-Haired Shanks."

Her magic is beginning to respond to her surge of temper. Black strands of energy are slowly curling out of her skin. The way one man with a long nose and curly blond hair is exclaiming and pointing at her face, she is sure that her eyes have bled to pitch. Sane men - like most of this crew - would be backing away in fear. Shanks and his first mate don't budge an inch.

_"Wow._ That's actually _really_ cool. Hey, can you change your hair color too, or is it just the eyes?" Shanks is studying her like an excited kid who has just been handed a new toy to play with. Beckman, on the other hand, has closed his fingers around the butt of his rifle and is eyeing her cautiously.

She'll kill him if that gun clears his sash.

"Go ahead," the furious mage says, her voice dripping ice. "Try it. You die first."

"O-O-O-O-O-kay, let's all just calm down here."

Shanks has suddenly gone from excited infant to freakishly focused adult. Faster than Kyra would have thought possible, the Yonkou has moved to stand between her and Beckman and is holding his one remaining arm out to his side. The rest of his crew have gone quiet and still, watching their captain with hands on weapons and all frivolity forgotten. Kyra edges backwards cautiously, gazing darting from Shanks to his men and back in rapid succession.

She kind of wishes Bepo were here. She could use some of the bear's kung-fu ass kicking right about now.

Wait, what the hell is she thinking? Kyra does not need her ex-captain's bear. She doesn't need anybody.

She's not allowed to need anybody.

She is only supposed to be alone.

"Just trust me a little, kid," Shanks is saying, slowly moving towards her in a clearly nonthreatening manner. Her eyes zero in on that missing arm again, her magic stirring in a different way than as a response to rage. It's almost... well, pushing at her to do something, but she doesn't know what. That voice she's become accustomed to hearing around La - her _ex-captain_ has been strangely silent all day.

"Do you really think that if I were the type of pirate that was going to kill a young lady on my ship I wouldn't have done it already, Kyra?" Shanks asks in a soft, calming voice that Kyra hates on principal because it's the same kind of tone one would use when speaking to a frightened animal. "Do you think that if I was going to kill you I wouldn't have just gotten it over with at Marineford? Benny didn't mean anything by that; he's just really cautious around people we aren't familiar with. I swear the man worries every second of every day - can't you see how _grey_ his hair is? It's not just because of age, trust me on that. But he takes his orders from me, you know, because I _am_ the captain. He would never hurt you in any way unless I gave a stone-cold sober order for him to do so."

His little speech does nothing to calm Kyra's nerves. Her magic is still tugging at her as though it wants her to go to the redhead, and Beckman is still watching her with a very cautious expression on his face. The older man has removed his hand from his rifle, but it won''t take two seconds for him to draw it if Kyra lets her guard down. Her powers will obviously heal her if she is shot, but even monsters feel a shitload of pain when a bullet is introduced to their innards. The sorceress is positive that if she so much as twitches in Shanks' direction the first mate will shoot her to kill.

Unless he and the rest of the crew are unable to move.

A wiggle of one finger has every man aboard the ship from the captain on down frozen where they stand. Their heads and mouths are free to move as they please, but the rest of their bodies are as good as statues. Kyra ignores the shocked yells from every direction as she slowly eases her way over until she is standing close enough to Shanks for the man's breath to hit her face. She tunes out whatever crap he might be spouting and waits for a clue as to what exactly her powers expect her to do here. A sign is soon to come: her right hand is suddenly encased in healing white magic.

"...You've got to be fucking kidding me," she mutters, glaring at her hand in a disgruntled fashion.

Kyra was not put on Red-Haired Shanks' ship for her own safety. She is not here because her magic has come to its senses and realized how dangerous it is for the girl to remain in the company of the Heart Pirates and their captain. She is here today because her fucking powers are possessed of a bleeding heart. The infamous Yonkou standing before her is missing an arm, and Kyra's magic has decided that she needs to rectify that situation.

Damn it. Whatever happened to the good ol' days, where her powers listened to pretty much any demand she made and tried really hard to keep her out of dangerous situations? Why did it decide that she has to get involved in the problems of terrifyingly powerful people? Doesn't she have enough stress in her life?

Heaving a defeated sigh for the second time in too few hours, Kyra reaches up and pushes the long black cloak off of Shanks' shoulders. She then manipulates his shirt until she can put her hand against the bare skin of the stump that is his left arm and makes sure that his previously tied up sleeve hangs loose, ignoring threats and protests all the while.

"I hate doing favors for people," the sorceress informs her paralyzed patient grumpily, rudely cutting off whatever nonsense is coming out of his mouth. "They always end up backfiring and making a mess out of everything. But it appears that if I ever want to get off this floating pile of driftwood I'm going to have to bite the bullet and help you. Don't think this makes us buddies or allies or whatever, and don't expect me to do anything for you again unless I feel like it. All this means is that my powers enjoy putting me in situations that give me major recurring headaches whenever possible."

The process begins while she speaks. Kyra doesn't bother watching the bone materialize, or the muscles and ligaments and tendons. She glances over to see skin sheathe the new limb under the healing glow of her powers, checks that there is indeed a hand sticking out of the shirt sleeve. When the entire arm from shoulder to fingers is regrown, she lets her magic fade and takes the new hand in her own.

"Do you feel this?" she asks, giving the hand a squeeze. Shanks stares at her, mouth hanging open, obviously in shock at what she has just done. It takes a few seconds before he slowly nods, curling his new fingers around her smaller ones and holding on tight. Kyra releases him and his crew from their frozen state; nobody attempts to attack her. There is a long, shivering minute of total silence as everyone processes what has just happened before -

"SHE FIXED HIM! SHE FIXED THE CAPTAIN!"

"SHE REGREW HIS ARM!"

"HOLY SHIT THAT'S SO AWESOME!"

"LET'S CELEBRATE!"

_**"YEAH!"**_

Cheers and shouts of joy assail her eardrums as the crew rejoices, most of them hugging one another and laughing like maniacs. Beckman is watching his captain with a small but genuine smile as Shanks lets go of Kyra's hand and brings his own in front of his face, staring at it as though it will disappear at any moment. He makes a fist, spreads his fingers wide, then runs them through his shaggy scarlet hair. All the while his expression of awe lingers, and when he focuses on Kyra again she can see that his eyes have grown moist.

"You... you gave me back my arm," he croaks, barely audible over all the racket his crew is making. Both of his hands come up and try to cup Kyra's face; she jerks back and steps away, eyeing Shanks warily as he rapidly shakes his head.

"No, kid, I'm not going to hurt you! I'm just - you - you regrew my arm! I just wanted to thank you! You don't even - I can't tell you how much this means to me... but..." He struggles for a moment, obviously trying to find the right words. After a pause he blurts out, "But why? Why did you do this for me? We're complete strangers, and most people wouldn't do something like this for a stranger! Holy cow, Kyra, _you regrew my arm!_ Do you have any idea how much I _love you_ right now?"

She doesn't, but she also doesn't really care.

"I told you, I couldn't leave until I helped you," Kyra repeats, glaring down at the hand she had used to heal as though the limb is at fault. "Sometimes my magic decides it knows better than I do, and I almost always end up getting hurt. At least this time I didn't get shot. Bullets fucking hurt."

Shanks looks trapped between ecstatic and baffled. "What, so a voice says 'regrow the handsome guy's missing arm' and you have to?"

"No voice," she corrects in a slightly distracted manner, already looking for her satchel now that her magic has been placated and she can leave. "And you're not my type. Where's my stuff?"

Definitely baffled now. "What stuff?"

Kyra waves a hand through the air, having spotted her belongings sitting over in a corner of the deck. The bag flies towards her. She catches it easily and slings one of the straps over her shoulder.

"Better really dump me somewhere safe this time, stupid magic," she grumbles under her breath as it wraps her in onyx.

"Wait, Kyra, where are you going? Don't leave yet!"

There is no time to reply as she is transported away.

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law is currently in a fight with a rival crew of pirates. They are an insignificant bunch whose name he doesn't care to remember, possessed of little skill and great numbers. They were stupid enough to fire upon Law's surfaced submarine mere minutes after he discovered that his magician had gone missing, after his mood had already had the chance to turn dangerously black. The Surgeon of Death had thus ordered Gable to dive the sub long enough to fire a sufficient amount of torpedoes to cripple the enemy vessel without sinking it. Once that was accomplished the Heart Pirates had resurfaced and boarded.<p>

Now they are all watching as their captain slaughters the nameless pirate crew who made the foolish mistake of attacking the Dark Doctor on a bad day.

It's not as enjoyable as he has come to expect. These idiots are terrible fighters and pathetically disorganized. Law isn't even using his Devil Fruit abilities against them; only a scalpel or his nodachi. Bodies litter the ship's deck, and he is sure his clothing is covered in blood. The Heart Pirate captain doesn't care. He needs an outlet to his rage, and these foolish little gnats will suffice for that purpose.

_Why does it bother you so much? The thought of belonging to me? Why does it have your heart pounding so hard? Why are you so afraid?_

He swipes the scalpel blade across one man's throat, impales another on his sword. The one who called himself captain is already dead, and the remaining pirates are helpless without a leader. They fall before him like carelessly swatted flies.

_Because I can't let myself care! I can't give a fuck about you because if I do it'll blow up in my face! Because any time I let myself give a shit about anyone they die or disappear and I can't do that anymore!_

Law jabs his scalpel into a man's eye and pulls the orb from its socket before gutting the screaming victim with his sword.

_I can't fucking care about you when my mother's out there alone somewhere and I'll never see her again!_

He stabs another fool in the thigh, right on the artery, and leaves him to bleed to death.

_I can't care when you're a fucking pirate and Merrick knows I'm with you and he'll torture you just to hurt me!_

The last opponent's head is separated from the rest of his body. Law stares down at the corpse, soaked in blood and breathing heavily from his exertion. He can feel the eyes of his men on his back, can tell that they are concerned for him. He doesn't turn to assure them, doesn't so much as acknowledge their presence.

_I can't care **when I'm nothing but a fucking monster and being around me'll just get you killed!**_

A monster.

Monster.

Fucking... **_monster._**

Law knows damn well he ordered his magician not to call herself that. Why is it that the little idiot will so easily believe the words of people who obviously hate and fear her? Perhaps it has something to do with her age when such insults were first used; there is a chance that psychological damage has been done, so that his magician really and truly believes that she is a monster. It will take some rather intense... _therapy_ on his part to break her of that notion once he has her back on his ship. The Four Blues, the Grand Line, the New World - the Surgeon of Death will rip them all asunder until he finds and reclaims what is his.

"Captain? Orders?" Bepo is standing next to him, furry face crinkled with concern. Law never even heard the bear approach. Giving himself a shake, he takes the sheath for his sword from Bepo and puts his long blade away, stuffing the bloody scalpel in his pocket to disinfect later.

"Raid the ship. If you find anything valuable, bring it back to the sub. Tell Gable to dive once you're done and sink this piece of garbage. I'm going to take a shower."

"Aye, Captain!"

His men give him a wide berth as he stalks back onto his sub and over to the hatch. He pays no attention to their behavior; the crew knows well enough not to bother him when Law is in a mood like this one. They will give him the necessary space for the next few days so that he can work on calming down, not disturbing him unless there is an extreme emergency. Bepo will probably show up in his room tonight, like he always does when Law is in such black spirits. Something about sleeping with his head on the bear's warm and soft body helps to calm him for unknown reasons.

Tomorrow he will begin to decide what he should do. The surgeon burns to track down his AWOL crew member - he is not in the habit of allowing his crew to jump ship. A member of his command remains as such until death, no exceptions, and the very idea that Kyra thinks he will do nothing in retaliation to her abrupt departure has Law clenching his jaw hard enough to damage the enamel of his teeth if he isn't careful.

Stupid, _stupid_ little girl.

He is halfway down the hall leading to his room when he registers the muffled screams. Someone is apparently locked in his room, and if the way they seem to be banging on the door and shrieking to be let out is anything to go by they are not pleased with the circumstances. Law finds himself less than thrilled as well: he did not lock his door before rushing off to the fight earlier, and as his crew is still topside, who the hell is in his room right now? Fishing his key out of his pocket, the Surgeon of Death throws the lock and kicks his door open, pulling out the scalpel from earlier and swiping it at the intruder.

The only reason Kyra does not die is because her reflexes are just good enough to have her throwing herself to the side, rolling under his bed and out again to hit the wall by his desk. Her pretty blue eyes are wide and terrified, her body pressed tight against the wall as though she wishes to sink through it to escape him. Her gaze darts back and forth from Law to the doorway behind him until the pirate nudges the portal shut with his foot, at which time it is exclusively fixed on him.

The lanky pirate regards her for a moment before leaning back against the doorframe with arms crossed.

"Welcome back, _my_ magician," Law drawls, putting special emphasis on the possessive pronoun that he knows she hates. The girl flinches as though struck. Law watches in silence as Kyra scans him from head to toe, visibly trying to shrink further away from him as she processes the fact that he is splattered in copious amounts of blood. Her tongue catches the surgeon's attention as it slips from her mouth to wet her lips.

"Fucking magic," she whispers in a raspy voice. Law wonders for a moment how long she has been in here screaming.

If he had required assurance that Kyra did not return to him of her own free will, she has just provided it with those two little words. It is now apparent that his magician's powers have taken it upon themselves to deposit the girl back where they think she belongs. This knowledge does nothing to lessen his growing rage as he prowls towards her, ignoring her snarled warning to stay back. The Dark Doctor reaches out and grabs a handful of hair as Kyra tries to avoid him by vaulting over his bed, yanking her to a painful stop. In seconds he has her pinned under him on the mattress, his knee pressing into her spine and his hands twisting her arms behind her back as his weight buries her face in the bedding.

"Where have you been?" Law demands, his voice deadly quiet. Kyra squirms beneath him in a futile attempt to break his iron hold on her. She thrashes her head from side to side, growling like a crazed animal.

"Get the fuck off me, Law!"

She has not answered his question. The furious pirate twists her arms a little higher, listening as the girl chokes on a whimper at the angle.

"You have two choices," he informs her softly, his tone completely at odds with the situation at hand. "You can answer my question and tell me where you disappeared to without my permission. Or you can continue to be foolishly stubborn, and we will test how high I can force your arms before I dislocate your shoulders. It's up to you, _my_ magician. Choose now."

_"Don't call me that!"_ Kyra howls, never ceasing her struggle for freedom. "I'm _not_ yours! I _don't_ belong to you, you fucking bastard! I don't have to answer your stupid questions! I don't owe you shit! You wanna pull my arms out of socket, you sick fuck? Go ahead! Prove to everything and everyone that I'm right, that trusting you is no different than trusting Sengoku, that giving a shit about you is no smarter an idea than letting that goat-raping pervert hand me over to **_him!_** Prove that you're no better than _**Merrick,**_ who did the **_exact same_ _fucking thing_** to me just because he could! Go on! Prove me right, you bastard! Prove me right so I can leave!"

Her words are an ice-cold bucket of water, dousing the flames of Law's rage and leaving him feeling strangely empty. He readjusts her arms to a more comfortable position, moving to straddle her hips instead of digging his patela into her spine. A small portion of his brain records the fact that he is dripping blood onto the girl and onto his sheets, making a tiny note to dispose of this bedding later. Kyra is still fighting him, almost hyperventilating in her worthless efforts. He will not be letting her go anytime soon. Law gathers both of his magician's thin wrists in the strong grip of one hand, freeing the other so that he can bury it knuckle-deep in that curly mop of hair. He bends down, presses his mouth right over her ear.

"You aren't going anywhere," he whispers, not caring that his voice has gone deep and husky. "You _are_ mine. You will never escape from me. I won't let you, and it seems that your magic won't allow it either."

"You sound like him," Kyra snarls, trying to move her head away to no avail. "He said almost the exact same thing. I got away from him, and I'll get away from you. Why are you so fucking _stupid?_ Don't you realize what kind of danger you're putting yourself and your crew in? Do you have any idea how many times someone has died just because of being close to me? I can't stay here, dammit! Piss my fucking magic off enough that I can leave before I end up getting your whole damn crew annihilated!"

Law sits back up, removing his hand from her hair to stuff it in a back pocket. He pulls out a tiny syringe, one he carries with him all the time just to be cautious, one filled with a highly potent and fast-working sedative. Kyra is not in the mood to listen to reason. He can give her a thousand excuses as to why her panic on behalf of his crew is unnecessary and not one of them will penetrate to that stubborn brain of hers. She can't go anywhere, as her powers are not cooperating with her in her wish to flee, but he does not want to leave her loose to try something stupid in a half-cocked escape attempt.

The Surgeon of Death slips the needle into a vein in one of his magician's captive wrists, disregarding her shouted protests and keeping her trapped beneath him until the sedative begins to take effect. When the girl sags, her voice slurring mid-sentence, Law moves off of her and pulls her floppy body into his lap. Her head lolls weakly against his shoulders as she visibly fights to stay awake. Tendrils of magic rise from her skin to wrap around the both of them, but the pirate feels no fear. He doubts Kyra is even capable of hurting him anymore, whether consciously or not. He is of the opinion that she has grown to care about him too much to cause him physical pain; is that not what her little outburst had been about? Had she not said - in a roundabout way - that the only reason she tried to flee is because she cares for Law and is afraid of being the reason he gets hurt?

"No," his little magician groans weakly, struggling to raise a hand and pushing against him with all the force of a newborn kitten. "Can't shtay here. Gotta leave, you bashtard. Leggo."

"You are mine, Kyra," Law whispers gently in reply, tilting her head so that he can place his lips against her throat and enjoy the taste of her skin. "I will never let you go."

The girl is too far gone to form a retort, and the Dark Doctor holds her sleeping body for a long time after she falls into unconsciousness, reacquaniting himself with her taste and smell. He will make more of that sedative in the near future. He will not give Kyra another opportunity to leave him. He will show her that she is his, that she belongs to him and him alone, and he will teach her why that is not such a horrible fate. Eventually, when enough time has passed, Law is certain that the day will come when his magician stays with him of her own accord - for no other reason but that she can't even entertain the idea of leaving.

Until then... well, no one can ever accuse Trafalgar Law of backing away from a challenge.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Law scrambles a large group of burly marines with an absent flick of his wrist. At the moment his attention is focused through the pouring rain on his magician as she mows down soldiers like they are nothing. That does not mean that he likes having to engage in a fight such as this in the middle of what might possibly shape up to be a cyclone, but Law supposes that he can't exactly tell the Marines to piss off because of a little thing like bad weather. Luckily there isn't so much as a spark of electricity in the air; only an obscene amount of rain and wind that is approaching brutal.<p>

In the weeks since her little disappearing act, Kyra has been especially brutal in battle. It is a perfect contrast to her almost docile manner around himself and his crew. Two more New World islands have come and gone without major incident, aside from the villagers at that last one trying to steal Bepo to make him their personal god. They have encountered pirates and Navy personnel alike, always coming out the victor due in large part to the girl's ability to protect and fight all at once. It's abnormal the amount of Marines that have just happened upon them lately, here in the second part of the Grand Line where the World Government's hold is tentative at best. Law rather thinks this is due more to the presence of his magician than his own renown - especially after the article that showed up in the newspaper three days ago.

Fire Fist Ace has finally made a reappearance into the world, letting all and sundry know that he is once more among the living by single-handedly sacking a Marine base on some island not far from Amazon Lily. At his side was Straw Hat Luffy, seemingly recovered from the physical trauma heaped upon him at Marineford. While reading about the duo's exploits had proven amusing, what really caught his eye about this article had been the report that Fire Fist and Straw Hat's continued life was the sole work of the pirate Demon Witch Kyra. Her bounty picture had been provided, along with the reward for her live capture and the information that she was known to be traveling with the Heart Pirates.

This has obviously painted a gigantic bull's-eye on his magician's forehead, but the Surgeon of Death is only a trifle concerned. Kyra is without a doubt quite capable of taking care of herself, and with the Heart Pirates watching her back she should be fine as long as she doesn't do anything stupid - like go on another mysterious little field trip without his permission.

The feared pirate ambles over to the girl in question, who has her hand fisted in the last remaining Marine's hair. She has forced the man to his knees and is tilting his head back at a dangerous angle as she speaks to him in a soft, deadly voice. The soldier is visibly shaking, all Navy pride having fled as he looks upon the face of his death dripping poisonous words in his ear. Law positions himself close enough to distinguish their conversation over the wind and rain.

"...I know you're full of shit. It's pointless to lie. You're not just taking orders from the Fleet Admiral anymore. Who issued the newest warrant for my capture?"

"It was the Fleet Admiral!" the Marine shouts almost defiantly; this would be much more impressive if his bottom lip weren't shaking as badly as his voice. "Fleet Admiral Sakazuki! He ordered us to capture you, scum! Why he has us wasting the time instead of just killing you like you deserve isn't my business!"

Law frowns, the man's words niggling at him. Stepping up to stand next to his magician, the pirate captain slides the blade of his nodachi into the captive's shoulder. His victim screams at the pain and attempts to pull away, only to be stopped by the hold Kyra has on his hair.

"Akainu is Fleet Admiral?" the surgeon asks lightly, as though inquiring about the weather while attending a refined tea party. "What happened to Sengoku?"

The man spits at him. Kyra puts a magic-encased hand through his ribs and grabs hold of something that he obviously needs to continue living, if the way her victim rushes to answer is any indication.

"R-retired! After Marineford! Retired!"

Law watches as Kyra's face takes on a stony quality that would be immensely frightening to most. He observes as her eyes change from blue to black in a blink, right before she pulls her hand from the marine's ribcage and uses it to tear his head from his shoulder. The Dark Doctor raises an eyebrow at her when she lets the body fall and turns to stalk back to the sub, obviously in a level of rage somewhere beyond furious. He quickly reaches out and grasps her arm above the elbow to stop her.

"What?" his magician snarls at him, sounding much more like the girl he remembers from the auction house on Saboady than she has in the last couple of weeks. Her eyes are still the color of a starless night sky. Something warns him not to push her right now. Kyra is dangerous at the moment, when her fury is boiling over in such a manner. Using his hold on her arm, Law carefully pulls her back to him and slips his arm around her waist, putting his mouth close to her ear so that he can speak low and still be heard over the downpour.

"Why are you upset?" he inquires gently, noting that Kyra is not fighting him. Even in these last few weeks she has not been receptive to his casual proximity, and he had fully expected at least a cursory elbow to the ribs when his arm went around her. That she does nothing even while this angry makes him wonder if perhaps he is actually making progress.

"Sengoku," Kyra replies, her voice harsh with barely restrained fury. "That bastard doesn't deserve a peaceful retirement. Now he'll drop off the freakin' grid and I won't have another chance to kill him. Dammit! Why didn't I just blow him to pieces at Marineford?"

The Heart Pirate captain tilts his head to the side, regarding his reluctant subordinate with a considering gaze. "Killing him is that important to you?"

She jerks away from him, glaring at her feet for a moment before once more turning to stomp away. Law barely hears her muttered affirmative over the storm. "It needs to be done."

The deranged doctor watches her go for only a moment before gesturing for Bepo, Sachi, and Penguin. The four of them then head into the belly of the Navy vessel to search it on the off chance of finding something valuable. Usually the Marines are good for a sizable stash of belli, while rival pirates are the best source of out-and-out treasure. Law plans to raid the ship's infirmary as well. Not like anyone here will miss it.

He has plundered the glass-fronted cabinets along the infirmary walls, sent his crew back topside with the pilfered cash, and is rummaging through a very well-stocked supply closest when he hears it: muffled sobbing. Law straightens up and silently backs out of the closet, head once more tilted to the side as he listens carefully. The voice is feminine; probably muffled due to a hand pressed over the mouth, and quite close at hand.

A few seconds later has the pirate pulling open the door to the ship hospital's tiny bathroom. A woman is huddled within, her back facing the doorway, dressed in the standard uniform of a Navy nurse. She does indeed have both hands clamped over her mouth in a futile attempt to quiet the sounds of her fear. She has not yet noticed him. He can feel the ship shifting dangerously from side to side under his feet. The wind is starting to howl louder than ever as it picks up speed, which means two choices are open to Law: leave this Navy nurse alone on this ship to die or take her with him.

He has no obligation to help her. He despises the Navy. And of course he's in a bit of a time crunch right now. Law knows that as soon as the woman sees him and recognizes him he'll probably have a case of hysterics on his hands, as well. Unfortunately, his mother taught him as a child that men should never hurt women. While this does not usually cause any trouble with his chosen profession, as not many women are strong enough of body or character to withstand the life of a pirate or the career of a Marine, sometimes - like right now - it can be a serious annoyance.

Law steps forward and wraps a hand securely around her upper arm, pulling the nurse upright and spinning her around. Her eyes go huge at the sight of him, but only a choked gasp come forth. Not trusting her to remain so acquiescent, Law immediately gags her with his free hand. She struggles against him until he yanks her out of the tiny space and slams her back up against the nearest wall hard enough to daze her. Planting his free hand right beside her head, the pirate captain leans his face down very near to hers, a dangerous expression dominating his features.

"Don't struggle, and don't scream," he orders quietly, his captive quivering with fear as copious amounts of tears dribble down her cheeks. "I will remove my hand from your mouth. If you cry out in any way I will remove your tongue. Do you understand?"

The nurse gives a whimper and a nod, plainly terrified of the infamous man hovering in her personal space. Law takes his hand from her mouth and grasps her chin. "What is your name?"

"L-L-Lily," is the stuttered reply, the woman's voice shaking just as much as the rest of her body. Quite the nice body, too, when he takes a moment to glance her over. The men are going to be acting like idiots trying to impress this one, due to the plentiful curves and shy demeanor. It's really rather unfortunate that she is a blonde; the boys would be more willing to give her space if she weren't the perfect representation of a number of their fantasies.

"I take it you were the nurse on this ship, Miss Lily?" he asks, having already deduced this from her uniform. "Is there anyone else hiding around that I don't know about?"

The woman doesn't answer, too busy crying and wasting effort trying to free her chin from his grasp. Irritated that she would be stupid enough to ignore him, the Surgeon of Death jerks her face back around so that he can glare at her. "I expect an answer, Miss Lily, and I would advise you not to bother lying. It will not go well for you if you do."

"There's no one else! I promise!" the distraught nurse wails. "The doctor is a soldier, he went to fight with everyone else and told me to hide until he came to get me! There's no one else hiding, please, I promise, don't kill me!"

Law releases her long enough to grab what he wants from the supply closet. Coming back, he finds the woman on the floor, slumped against the wall with her hands over her head as though to protect herself. He reaches down and takes hold of her upper arm again, pulling her gently but firmly to her feet and tugging her along behind him. Predictably, the nurse does not like this a bit, and her crying promptly intensifies as the pirate leads her up on deck where his drenched men are waiting. The storm is getting worse by the minute, the sea turning dangerously choppy and the rain descending upon them in a torrential downpour. The Navy vessel's deck is listing from side to side, dumping sheets of rainwater into the ocean as it rocks. The wind is screaming around them like a dying animal, and Law must shout to make himself heard.

"We're done here! Back to the sub, now!"

Nurse Lily is fighting him now, obviously terrified at the sight of the dead Marines whose bodies have yet to go overboard from the swaying of the ship. She screams and kicks out as he drags her towards the railing closest to his ship, probably trying to trip him. Annoyed, Law stops and throws the woman over his shoulder, one arm wrapped firmly around her legs so that she can't use them to attack him. She settles instead for hitting him repeatedly in the back with her delicate fists, the blows no more damaging than if she lashed him with a wet noodle.

Kyra is on the deck of his sub, her hat gone and her glorious hair whipping around in the wind like live snakes. The sub is pitching and rolling in the increasingly dangerous waters, yet his magician stands there with her bare feet planted, hardly moving an inch until she darts forward with a pissed off scowl on her face. She stops at the sub's railings, directly across from him, and makes a jerky gesture with one hand. The nurse slung over Law's shoulder like a sack of potatoes is yanked away to float through the air until Kyra can grab her arm and turn to hustle her inside.

That burden taken care of, Law steps back to watch his men so that he might be sure they get back on the sub safely. The Navy ship is definately rocking now, the waves around them growing larger and larger with every passing second. Bepo slips when his feet hit the deck of the sub, losing his balance and going sprawling on his stomach to skate across the wet surface. He is quick to get up, however, managing to slip and slide over to the hatch just as Kyra comes back out. The girl shouts at Law, making violent 'get-your-ass-over-here' gestures with her arms as the Dark Doctor carefully climbs to stand atop the railing of the dead Marine's ship. He tosses his bag of loot over first, which Kyra catches without a problem and throws through the still-open hatch. Law removes his cap, stuffs it in a pocket so it won't blow away, and jumps.

The sub pitches.

Away from him.

The Surgeon of Death barely has time to register what is happening, barely has time to hear his magician scream his name before he hits the water.

* * *

><p>Kyra doesn't stop to think. She is sprinting for the side of the sub while screaming Law's name, a frantic litany of <em>fuckfuck<strong>fuckity<strong>fuck_ running around in her head. In the next instant she has vaulted over the railing and plummets for the sea, a wave coming up to catch her as she falls.

The sun is hidden behind layer upon layer of angry clouds, making the depths of the sea almost pitch black even three feet under the surface. She cannot see a damn thing past her hands in front of her face, cannot see a yellow hoodie anywhere. She needs to do something fast, because the fucking dumbass that is her captain ate a Devil Fruit and is currently sinking like a rock. Kyra wraps her magic around her and teleports, mind stuck on Law so her powers will have a target.

The onyx sphere drops and Kyra whirls in a fast underwater circle with both hands outstretched, reaching and reaching in the hopes of grabbing something. Her grasping fingers close around a cloth-covered, slim thing that might be either an arm or an ankle. Not knowing how deep they are, not knowing for sure if it's Law she's holding or the body of a dead Marine, the sorceress immediately teleports again.

Kyra lands on the sub's deck from too high a drop point and at an awkward angle when the vessel lurches up to meet her. She distinctly hears something give an audible _crunch_ when her shoulder connects with the deck and is only mildly surprised when her left arm goes completely numb. Her passenger lands atop her, smothering her for a moment in yellow fabric that answers her earlier worries of who the hell she grabbed.

Law is ripped off of her in the next moment, the giant Jambarl running away towards the hatch with the captain in tow as Bepo scoops up Kyra and sprints after him. Sachi is waiting to slam the hatch shut as soon as the four are through, with Penguin yelling down to Gable, "Dive the fucking sub, all the fucking retards are onboard now so dive the gods-damned-fuck-ass sub before we all die, won't you please?"

"Jambarl, is he breathing, is Law breathing?" Kyra bellows over the noise to her large crewmate.

"No!" he barks back at her, eating up the hallway with his long loping strides towards the infirmary. Bepo follows after him, the mage still in his arms, whining noises like an animal in distress issuing from his mouth. Kyra can't even begin to try to comfort him. Law needs to be taken care of first, then she'll maybe worry about everybody else.

They're in Law's domain in record time, Kyra pushing herself out of the bear's arms and stumbling to her captain's side as Jambarl lays him out on one of the beds. The big man looks to her for instruction, as if she's supposed to know what the fuck to do when Law isn't breathing. Her good arm rises so that she can put her hand on his chest, relieved to a ridiculous degree when she feels a heartbeat. Thank the fucking gods, at least the idiot isn't dead yet. There's no telling what kind of shit his soul would pull if she had to directly interact with it in order to bring him back to life.

"Okay," Kyra rasps, wracking her brain to remember what her mother had done that one time she nearly drowned as a small child. "Jambarl, I'm going to tilt his head back and breathe into his mouth. When I pull back, I need you to do five compressions on his chest. Here, put your hands right here - yeah, and fold them over each - yeah, just like that. Make sure you don't break his ribs if you can avoid it, if not I'll fix 'em later. Alright, here we go."

Kyra uses her good hand to angle Law's head back before moving it to pinch his nose and sealing her lips with his. She lets out a deep breath into the pirate's lungs before pulling back and waiting as Jambarl does the compressions. Then she repeats the process, adding just a little bit of magic with her breath and hoping it will work because _you'd better not fucking croak on me, bastard, I don't want a pervert's soul brushing up against me, so don't fucking die._

Law jerks all of a sudden, giving Kyra just enough warning to yank her head back before he begins spitting up a fountain of water. She slides her hand under him and tries to turn him on his side; Jambarl takes the job and rolls his captain with one huge finger. Kyra watches with near crippling relief as the fearsome Surgeon of Death gags up what seems like a lake's worth of water before going still again, flopping onto his back once more when Jambarl releases him. The sorceress instantly puts a hand on Law's chest, forcing healing magic into him and fixing the slightly bruised ribs along with the raw throat and soupy lungs. If he has a bellyache from swallowing all that seawater she can take care of it later.

Long shaky fingers touch her cheek, drawing her eyes back to her captain's face to see the bastard grinning rather weakly at her. Kyra immediately scowls and moves to back up, not surprised when those fingers grab at strands of her hair and refuse to let go. The adrenaline is draining from her system and her legs are wobbling as if the bones have been removed. Kyra is suddenly dead-tired, wanting nothing more than to fall into her bed and sleep for the next month or so. She settles for bowing her heavy head slightly and planting her palm on the very edge of Law's cot to steady herself.

"At this rate you're going to scare me to death within the next year or two, Law," she grumbles as the pirate before her eases himself up into a sitting position, overbalancing slightly only to be set upright by Jambarl.

His hand tangles itself further into her hair so that his fingers can knead her scalp, sending little pings of pleasure down her spine. If not for her sudden exhaustion and the current uselessness of one arm, Kyra would bat him away. Lucky prick. She tells herself this even as she feels Law's lips press a lingering kiss to the top of her head through her curls; even as his other hand moves to wrap around her torso and he shifts to sit with his legs hanging off the cot enveloping her body on either side. Kyra doesn't rest her head in the crook of Law's shoulder because she wants to; it's purely because she's too fucking tired to move right now. Give her a few minutes to recover and she'll push him away and demand that he fix her fucking arm as repayment for saving his worthless life. Maybe whack him over the head a time or two for not being more careful about jumping from ship to ship in the middle of a fucking hurricane.

Someone is saying something somewhere close to her, but Kyra really can't be bothered at the moment to listen. A probing squeeze to her hurt shoulder is enough to instantly snap her out of that little daze, dragging a pained yelp forth as she sluggishly pulls away from Law's annoyingly comfortable shoulder to see what the hell is going on now. The crazy surgeon whose life she just saved is carefully fingering her throbbing left arm through her soaked shirtsleeve from elbow to shoulder and back. The numbness from earlier is gone now, replaced with an agonizing ache that sharpens with every beat of her heart. Law ignores her hissed protest as he moves the arm around for a moment before rising from the cot and pushing her back slightly. He then goes to stand at her side and lifts her elbow to shoulder level, one hand holding hers and the other clasping her deltoid in a bruising grip.

"Brace your legs and try not to move," he orders. Kyra does so, and as soon as she has her feet in a good position the crazy jerk slams her arm back into its socket with a resounding pop.

_"Fuck!"_

"Bend your elbow," Law commands, obviously not aware of just how much it fucking _hurts _to have a dislocated shoulder forced to rights. Kyra manages to bend her elbow, flex her wrist, and wiggle her fingers enough to please him. Her powers have made quick work of healing anything that might have been damaged during the initial injury, so there's really nothing to worry about. The sorceress would tell Law this, but that would mean opening her mouth and producing words, and Kyra is not sure she's up to that right this minute.

As soon as he lets go of her she slumps against his vacated cot, closing her tired eyes and wondering if she should just curl up on the uncomfortable thing and try to sleep here. That blonde bombshell she swiped from Law earlier is now locked safely in her room, so it's not like she can use her own bed anyway. Kyra is soaking wet and desperately wants a shower. And she's hungry. Trust the fucking Marines to show up right as they were all sitting down to lunch for a stupid afternoon-long battle the Navy had no chance in Hell of winning anyway. Who in their right mind engages such a dangerous enemy - the crew of a Supernova and the fucking Demon Witch, for Roger's sake - in the middle of a freakin' New World storm?

Ugh, this day has sucked majorly. Kyra wants it to end.

She finds herself carted to Law's room by the much-more-alert man, shoved into his bathroom with orders to shower and a pile of her clothes stuffed in her hands before the door is shut. When she stumbles out ten minutes later, smelling of Law's soap and dressed in clothes that she's been mysteriously missing for a while now, the Dark Doctor is there to loop an arm around her waist and lead her to the galley for a victory celebration. As soon as they set foot in the chamber a great cheer goes up from the rest of the crew, who swoop over to grab Kyra and drag her into the middle of the mayhem. Thanks and slaps on the back rain down upon her from every direction. Kisses are smacked on her cheeks in seemingly endless succession. Everyone is talking at once, all clamoring to tell her something that her brain refuses to process. What the hell is going on? Why isn't Law coming over to rescue her from his crew? The jackass owes her big time, the least he could do is get her out of here before these guys accidently hug her to death.

Sachi and Penguin appear at her sides, looping their arms through hers as they scream for silence. Someone darts forward and presses a mug of beer into her hands; she almost drops it from the weird positioning of her arms. All around, the members of the Heart Pirates thrust their own drinks in the air with huge grins on all their faces.

"To Kyra, for saving Captain's life!" Sachi and Penguin yell out in unison.

**_"TO KYRA!"_** the rest of the crew bellows, banging their mugs together and slopping liquor everywhere.

What, they're toasting her now? All she did was pull Law out of the water and perform mouth-to-mouth. Anybody could have done it. Kyra twists her head around enough to spot the aforementioned captain sitting in his chair at the head of the table, freshly washed and wearing nothing but a pair of sleeping pants with his hair in disarray and his own mug of alcohol in his hand. He smirks when he catches her eyes, raising his drink to her before draining it all in one long pull.

Eventually Kyra manages to claw her way out of the biggest congregation of celebrators and heads over to the table, a veritable platter piled high with food balanced in one hand while her mug of grog is still clutched in the other. She takes her customary seat to the right of Law and puts the platter in between them so that he might help himself, slumping over the table with an exhausted sigh. Holy shit, she's tired.

"I think I liked it better when they were all scared shitless of me," the sorceress mutters, sitting up enough to take a healthy gulp of her drink. "If I'd known they were going to mob me I might have just let your ass drown."

The smug smirk she gets in response tells Kyra that Law does not believe her in the slightest. Huffing, she decides she has better things to do than convincing the man that really, she doesn't care about him and only saved him out of instinct. She should be eating some of this food before her stomach starts to digest itself. Sticking a hand in her pocket, Kyra fishes out the two forks and knives Sachi had stuffed in there a few minutes ago when the asshole of a cook was piling food on this platter for her. She passes a set of silverwere to Law and tucks in, absolutely famished.

She is gnawing on a particularly juicy piece of steak - and since when did that rat bastard Neil cook _steaks,_ anyway? Somebody must have thrown around a few threats to get him to go all out for this little party - when Law reaches over and brushes the backs of his fingers against her cheek in an achingly sweet gesture. Flustered, Kya looks at him and nearly chokes in shock at the honest-to-gods smile on her captain's lips. Not a smirk, not a leer, not even a sarcastic grin. A fucking _smile._

The world is coming to an end.

"Thank you," Law says, in a tone of voice Kyra has never heard him use before on anyone. "Thank you for saving my life."

Okay, now Kyra's positive that she has to be dreaming. She must have passed out in the shower and everything since has been a fantasy made up by her overactive imagination. What do people always say about making sure you're awake? Pinch yourself? Kyra promptly drops her fork and pinches the hell out of her leg. It stings like a bitch, but when she looks up nothing has changed except the vastly amused look on Law's face.

"What are you doing now, my dear magician?"

"Trying to wake up. I just realized I fell asleep in the shower; I need to wake up or I'll probably drown."

This pulls a laugh from the man next to her. "And why would you think you are asleep?"

"Because you're smiling in a non-threatening, non-sarcastic way and you just said 'thank you', a phrase I'm pretty sure isn't in your vocabulary. So either I'm asleep or I pulled a shapeshifter out of the water earlier and you're just pretending to be Law. Or you've suffered brain damage because of how long you were not breathing." Kyra eyes the crowd in search of Bepo. If she is awake, she should probably get the bear to verify that this man is indeed Law by scent - just to make sure he really isn't some Devil Fruit user who assumes the shapes of other people. Ah, but that's crazy, right? If he is Law, Kyra will need to see what she can do about fixing the brain damage.

He laughs again. "If I had found you asleep in my shower, I assure you we never would have made it in here in the first place. A shapeshifter would not know that your golden necklace was a present from your mother or that the spot just below your jaw on the left side is extremely sensitive. And no, Kyra, I am not suffering brain damage. In fact, my brain is currently working through several more personal ways to show you exactly how much I appreciate that you saved my life today. I would hate for you to think me ungrateful."

The tone Law uses for those last two sentences has Kyra blushing red as a tomato in embarrassment, thoroughly convinced that she is not asleep and the arrogant bastard beside her is indeed her captain. Not knowing what to say, she decides the safest course of action would be to continue eating and attempt to ignore him. She picks up her discarded fork and spears another piece of steak. Right, so ignore the perverted pirate and finish eating; then she can go lock herself in her room and sleep for the next ten -

Shit.

"The blonde woman is in my room," she blurts out.

"Ah, good. I was wondering where you had stashed her. She'll have to stay there until we come to the next island. Best not to put the men in the way of such temptation."

Kyra does not like this suggestion. "What, you want me to room with her? That sucks! Why should I have to put up with a whiney chick who's going to spend ninety percent of her time bawling and the other ten bitching?"

Law is smirking again, that rather attractive smile from minutes before morphing into something more familiar. "You won't. Bepo moved your belongings into my room, where you will stay to sleep until we get rid of Nurse Lily. It's the perfect opportunity to convince you of how thankful I am."

**_WHAT?_**

"Oh, come on!" She's managed to avoid sleeping with Law since that last time the jerk drugged her. She sleeps with Bepo or on her own, but not with the captain. No way is she doing that again. "Why can't the blonde just sleep with you?"

Thin eyebrows are waggled in her direction. "I prefer brunettes."

Kyra stuffs a chunk of potato in her mouth, chewing angrily as she tries to think of some way out of this situation. "She'll need somebody to keep an eye on her. I'll sleep on the floor in my room, just to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid at night."

"No need. Bepo will watch her. He said he'd take her a plate of food, and I'm sure he'll stay in there to ensure she eats it." The Surgeon of Death is watching her struggle with open amusement in his expression. "I would never make you sleep on the floor, my magician. Besides, I wouldn't want you to be forced to deal with a whiney chick who's going to spend ninety percent of her time bawling and the other ten bitching."

Dammit, now he's using her own fucking words against her. Kyra concedes defeat and sulks, stabbing a piece of broccoli with unnecessary force. Looks like she's going to be sharing a bed with fucking Trafalgar Law. Yippie.

"You better not drug me again, you asshole, or I'm going to neuter you," she threatens, brandishing her fork at him.

Law's smirk turns feral, leaving Kyra to wonder for a moment what she could possibly have said to give him that look. "Anxious to get in my pants, Kyra?"

Gods, this man has such a dirty mind. Kyra takes the high road and ignores him. She's just found a section on this platter devoted entirely to desserts, which are infinitely more interesting than Law. She would be best friends with the cook if the little prick hadn't insulted her mother.

The pair spends the next hour or so dueling over the desserts, which are some of the best Kyra has ever tasted. Law tells her that Neil once worked at a pastry shop in his hometown in North Blue; the surgeon recruited him because of how much he loves the man's cooking. He then solemnly agrees that the cook's attitude is shit, but says he's never really cared before because as long as the food was good and Neil refrained from insubordination Law hadn't been concerned with personality issues. Kyra makes a comment about his fucking creepy personality being a draw for assholes. Law retaliates by childishly flicking a dollop of vanilla pudding in her face. A piece of pie is scooped up and thrown in return, and suddenly a slice of cake flies across the kitchen from Sachi and Penguin's general direction to smack Kyra in the side of the head, smearing chocolate icing in her hair. Her blob of ice cream misses the cackling duo and smacks the navigator in the back of the neck. He mistakenly assumes the two friends are responsible and peppers the both of them with chunks of potatoes from his plate. Suddenly food is flying everywhere, the entire crew participating in a full-scale food fight, and Kyra finds herself laughing harder than she has in years as she magically dive-bombs her crew members with produce.

What a crazy day this has been. From fighting Marines in the middle of hurricane-type weather to saving her captain from drowning to a food fight with the crew she has failed to keep at a distance. Her life is insane.

Eventually Law sees an opening and yanks her out of the galley, leaving the others to both their fun and the clean-up. He drags her off towards his room, stopping to check on their blonde guest and ushering Kyra into her own shower to wash the food from her body. The hot water reminds her of just how drained she is; she sluggishly pulls on pajamas and waves goodnight to Bepo before stumbling to Law's chambers and collapsing on his bed, asleep the moment her head hits the mattress.

* * *

><p>She saved his life.<p>

Law strokes his fingers over his magician's brow, smirking lazily as she nuzzles further into his thigh. He had emerged from his post food fight shower to find her sound asleep atop the covers of his bed, lying on her stomach with her hands flung out to the sides. He had picked her up long enough to slide her and most of his legs under the silky sheets and warm blankets, putting her head in his lap and his hands in her hair. Law feels a compulsion just to touch her tonight. This is not one of the times where he will be able to sleep, so he will spend the hours until dawn massaging Kyra's scalp and attempting to come up with a way to entice this woman to sleep with him in the more... 'adult' sense of the phrase.

She saved his life today, after all. Before today his seduction attempts have been like a fun game, something to do to spice up his days. He has flirted with her, touched her, wormed his way under her skin as best he can because her reactions were entertaining and because she is quite frankly an attractive, powerful woman. There are so few females who possess both qualities, things Law is drawn to, and he'd have to be a fool to not try to weedle his way into his magician's nonexistent sex life.

Now...

Now everything is different. He owes her his life. He has definite proof that Kyra really does care for him, whatever she might say to the contrary. Because how many people in their line of work would save the life of someone they loathe as much as his magician claims to loathe him? She tells him that she doesn't want to care for him; Law thinks it's a little too late if she would willingly dive into the sea in the middle of a storm to rescue the person she supposedly doesn't give a shit about.

The Dark Doctor wants to pay her back. Sex would be the perfect way, and honestly it would probably do wonders for the both of them. It would help him get rid of the sexual frustration that always builds up in his gut over time, which has been particularly strong since bringing the girl into his crew. It would help Kyra relax, which would be doing everyone a favor. Law is confident that he can turn his stubborn, headstrong magician into a gibbering mass of pleasured jelly given the chance, and gods but he _wants_ that chance. The chance to see where she is most sensitive; the chance to taste every last inch of her; the chance to watch her face as he pushes her past the edge of ecstasy over and over again until she doesn't even know her own name.

Kyra saved his life today. Law can show her pleasure she's never dared to dream of. Isn't that a fair trade?

He will have to be patient. His magician will not be able to resist him forever now that he is really determined to have her. All he has to do is win her over and wait her out. Soon, the Demon Witch will belong to the Surgeon of Death in every sense of the word.

Law is very much looking forward to it.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Kyra feels the hairs upon the back of her neck prickle for the tenth time in the last half hour and tenses. She wishes Law hadn't taken the seat in the corner; it would be nice to be able to see who the hell is watching her. Instead she is stuck with her back to the rest of the bar, sitting right across from her captain so the bastard can stare at her with that infuriating smirk on his face.<p>

They have been on this island for roughly two hours, having finally dumped the traumatized blonde nurse at the first house from the docks and spent time gathering supplies for the continuation of their journey. They will be stuck here for another three days while the new, complicated Log Pose sets. The storm that nearly claimed Law's life has followed them here, to this island of unbelievably massive trees and the metropolis built into the branches like beautiful, elaborate tree houses. The bar in which they sit is easily fifty feet off the ground, in the lowest branches of a pair of monstrous oaks, reached by a series of handholds carved deep into the bark of the trunks. The people here seem quiet and somewhat shy, all of them walking around barefoot and showing off their elongated toes that look very much like fingers.

The natives seem rather fond of seafarers, giving the Heart Pirates their supplies for free and providing booze and food here in the bar for a ridiculously reduced rate. They have been courteous and polite, their leader offering the entire crew shelter in his home for the duration of their stay. They have not even gone crazy over Bepo, a definite first in Kyra's experience of traveling with the bear. It is fairly amazing to her how accepting these people have been.

Which does not make her feel any better about whoever the hell that is over there giving her the hairy eyeball.

Bepo, sitting close at hand, nudges her slightly. "What's wrong, Kyra?"

The sorceress doesn't bother inquiring as to how her fluffy companion is aware of her discomfort. He probably smells it on her with that sensitive nose of his. "Somebody keeps watching us and it's starting to bug me."

This draws Law's attention. The ruthless surgeon pulls out of a quiet conversation with one of the lower level mechanics and directs his gaze at the woman across from him. "What do you mean by that, my magician?"

Kyra squashes the urge to tell him not to call her that, as she has started to learn that doing so will have the exact opposite effect. "Somebody keeps looking over here. I can feel their eyes. Obviously I can't see them, since _somebody_ took the corner seat, but they're watching us right now from somewhere behind me."

Law's grey eyes shift to scan the room, stopping at a point just to the right of Kyra's head. They immediately narrow, and the feeling of being watched instantly dissipates as whoever it is looks away.

"There is a man sitting at a table near the door," the captain intones softly, his voice bordering on deadly. "He's wearing some kind of hooded cloak, but I can see his face fairly well. Early to mid-twenties, smooth of face, light brown hair." Law grows quiet, as if pondering something. Then he leans forward with a smile. "Would you like to come with me while I have a little chat with our curious friend, my magician?"

Kyra considers for only a moment before giving a nod and pushing to her feet, waiting for Law to round the table before turning and falling into step behind him. She sees the man he means instantly, sitting alone at a small table very close to the exit. His features are as Law described them, with a strong jaw and glittering brown eyes that watch their approach from the shadow of his hood. He makes no move to rise and leave, sitting there calm as you please until the duo comes to a stop before him.

Something is wrong, a nagging something that tugs at Kyra's mind. This man is vaguely familiar, like a face she has seen once a long time ago and forgotten until now. Her brow furrows in confusion as she tries to figure out if she has indeed met this individual before, and if so, where. Could he have worked in the labs with Merrick? The thought sends ice racing through her veins, but for unknown reasons she is almost certain that is not the case. So if not, then where has she seen him?

"Good evening, sir," Law greets him smoothly, moving to place an arm low around Kyra's hips as he smirks at the stranger. "I couldn't help but notice your interest in my crew over there. Do you have a problem with pirates?"

The man does not respond, his gaze flickering over the Dark Doctor for only a moment before coming to rest on Kyra. His expression shifts infinitesimally from guarded to dangerously interested in an instant. The twitchy mage immediately tenses at his scrutiny, extremely uncomfortable and wary as hell. Seeing this, her captain loses the smirk and moves as though to step in front of her, only to be stopped by her hand upon his chest.

The stranger takes all this in before speaking, his voice low and deep and unfamiliar in a way his face is not.

"I meant no offense," he assures Law quietly, sweeping a hand to the booth seat across from him. "Please, won't you sit? It's been awhile since I had company to drink with me."

Kyra uneasily allows Law to usher her into the booth, not pleased to be trapped between him and the wall. She eyes the stranger, who has hardly taken his gaze from her in the last few minutes. He catches her look and smiles gently, heightening that sense of familiarity.

"I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable. I've been looking for you for a long time, and I admit it surprised me when you walked in that door, Kyra."

Her eyes immediately change color, black wisps swirling around her as she prepares to fight and kill this person who somehow knows her name. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

He does not seem alarmed by her hostility, nor by the look currently gracing Law's features. Instead the man puts his hand into his cloak and slowly withdraws something. Very carefully, he places the item down on the table and removes his hand, all the while watching for Kyra's reaction.

But she is unable to give him one - Kyra is in shock at what she sees for a long, frozen moment in time. A delicate necklace lies on the polished wooden surface of the table. It is gold through and through, from the fine chain to the jagged half-heart pendant. Beside the pendant hangs a filigreed silver knotwork ring, beautiful in its detail and so tiny it would only fit on a woman's pinkie.

Kyra knows every curve and line on that intricate band by heart. Her mother wore that ring. It had been a gift from a childhood lover who went out to sea long years before Kyra was born and never came back. Her mother had worn that ring every day of Kyra's life up until her abrupt departure from their island. The necklace she recognizes too, the twin and match to the one safely tucked away in her satchel back on the sub. Another of her mother's most prized possessions; Kyra's grandfather had given them to her the year he died, and she in turn had given one to Kyra when the girl was five years old. As far as Kyra knows, her mother never took the necklace off, not even to bathe.

And now this stranger has placed that unforgettable memento casually before her, paired with the precious ring her mother had so loved.

Kyra has wrapped the stranger in strangling black magic in an instant, her heart pounding in her ears. She snatches the treasures up and leans over the table towards him, dangling the precious jewelry in his face as she bares her teeth and snarls at him, ignoring Law's warning grip on her elbow.

_"Where,"_ she demands through clenched jaws, fury bubbling dangerously close to the surface, _"did you get this?"_

The mysterious stranger meets her glare calmly, a smile still quirking the corners of his lips. "From Naomi, of course."

The air freezes in Kyra's lungs. Her mother's name. Oh gods.

"Where is she?" the sorceress growls, hardly aware of anything else as her powers respond to her growing fear and rage. "Where? Tell me now or I will kill you so slowly you'll beg to die."

"Your mother is waiting for you," the man replies, somehow looking hardly fazed by her very real threat to his life. "She misses you terribly, and was thrilled to know that you are alive. Would you like to go home to her, Kyra?"

The world is spinning out of her control. Law is speaking to her, something about calming down and damage to property as the sound of raised voices and shattering glass rings around the bar. Kyra ignores it all. The entirety of her concentration is focused on the person sitting calmly in front of her, wrapped in her magic to a dangerous degree but not looking the least bit afraid. That familiar face is watching her closely, those sparkling brown eyes urging her to say yes. Urging her to go with him back to her home island. Back to her mother.

"Who _are_ you?" she whispers, needing to know before this goes any further. "Who the _fuck_ are you?"

The man smiles gently. "My name is Jericho. My father's name is Malachi. Ring any bells, shrimp?"

Everything stops.

* * *

><p><em>She is crying, her thin little arms wrapped around her seven year old cousin as her mother and uncle argue.<em>

_"You can't be serious!" her uncle bellows, throwing his hands in the air in clear exasperation. "Naomi, that man is evil! If you stay here, if Kyra stays here, he will kill her! You **know** he will! You heard what he said today!"_

_"And so did you!" her mother screams back. She has never seen her mother like this, and it terrifies her. "If we leave, the contract he forced on her will kill her for sure! I will not take that chance with my daughter, Malachi! She's all I have! I won't risk her life like that!"_

_She huddles further into her cousin's protective embrace, trying to block out the fighting and the scary words piercing the air inside the little hut. Black magic crawls out of her skin to engulf the two children in a soundproof cocoon, the power inside her answering her silent pleas. Jericho doesn't flinch or cry out in fear - he merely tightens his grip on her until she thinks they will fuse together, his hands warm through the bandages on her back. Her magic strokes them both, teasing his hair and trying vainly to wipe the endless river of tears from her cheeks._

_"Don't be scared, shrimp," Cousin Jericho whispers, using that annoying pet name that she hates, because he's only a year older and a half-inch taller, and she hardly qualifies as a shrimp! "Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."_

_"B-but it hurt, Jeri," she sobs into his scrawny chest. "The shaman made me hurt so bad! I don't wanna have lessons with him! It's scary, his magic's scary, Jeri! It makes my stomach funny and my chest hurts when he looks at me. I don't wanna go back! He'll hit me again! I don't want you and Uncle Chi to leave! You can't leave me! I promise I won't hurt you again, I promise, I'm sorry!" _

_She rubs a tiny hand on her cousin's tummy, more tears wetting her cheeks when she feels his scar under his shirt. She didn't mean to hurt him. The village boys were throwing rocks at her again and he got in the way of her magic on accident. That scar is testament to her power's ability to both harm and heal. Is that why Uncle Chi wants to leave? Is he scared she'll hurt his son again?_

_"Shh, don't be stupid, shrimp. I'm not mad about a little scratch! You're my cousin, and that's what cousins are for! I gave you that scar next to your eye, remember? When we were playing pirates with those tree limbs and I accidentally poked you? This was just payback for that, okay? Nothing to worry about!" Jericho makes her lift her chin and grins at her, the expression taking up his whole face and squeezing his watering brown eyes until they are almost shut. She cries harder than ever and tries to hug him tighter, never wanting to let go._

_"I love you, Jeri," she bawls into his shirt. She knows already that he and her uncle are going to leave. There's nothing she can do to stop it. She's going to lose her cousin, and she has to tell him how she feels before he goes. "I love you lots. Will you promise not to forget about me?"_

_Jericho laughs, the sound watery and brave and so fake even the six year old isn't fooled. "I'll never forget you. And someday I'll come back here with Daddy and save you from that stinky old man! We'll come back and take you and Aunt Mi somewhere far away, where there's no creepy shamans with their stupid lessons and whips, where we can eat cake for breakfast every day and chocolate for dinner and ice cream whenever we want it! It's a promise, okay?"_

_"R-really?"_

_"Yup! A promise!"_

* * *

><p>Kyra is crouched on top of the table with the stranger's shirt rucked up to his armpits in one second flat, shielded so that Law cannot interfere and staring at the faded scar just under the man's ribs. It is the size of a small child's fist, clearly gained years ago. It is located in the exact spot where she wounded her cousin as a little girl, just weeks after killing her father and days before her uncle took his son and left the island forever. She had managed to heal for the first time when Jericho had been hurt, terrified that her best friend would die and sick with the knowledge that it would be her fault.<p>

Oh, gods.

"It's me, shrimp," her prisoner says softly, watching her face with those brown orbs of his. "It's really me. I promised I wouldn't forget about you and I didn't. Have you forgotten about me?"

The stunned sorceress stares at him, hardly daring to hope. Could it be? Is he really...?

"Jeri?" she whispers, terrified of his answer.

He grins at her in response, a grin that utilizes his entire face and scrunches his eyes until they are almost closed. Her cousin's grin. "Yup!"

Jericho is sitting before her, alive and well and smiling.

Kyra drops her shield and throws herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around him and crushing him in a hug. She is crying, she can feel the tears racing down her cheeks as she grips her cousin tight and just weeps in sheer joy. She doesn't care that they're sitting in a bar. She doesn't care that Law and most of his crew can see her. Nothing matters except the way it feels when Jericho's strong arms come up to embrace her right back, burying his face in her hair and holding her close.

"Jeri," she whimpers into his broad chest, so different and yet so like the one she remembers from all those years ago. "Jeri, gods, _Jeri."_

"Shh, it's okay," he whispers to her, rubbing his big hands soothingly up and down her back. "I got you, shrimp. Everything's okay now. I got you."

Kyra pushes him away slightly, greedily drinking in the sight of his face. "Uncle Chi? Is he alright? Is he here with you?"

Her long lost cousin and childhood best friend shakes his head. "He's with Aunt Mi. They're both waiting for us to get back to them. I've been looking for you since we got wind that you'd ended up with a bounty. Speaking of which, is your title seriously 'Demon Witch'? Isn't that like redundant? I think shrimp is a much better name, don't you?"

She laughs weakly, letting her head drop to his shoulder and squeezing him again. She can't make herself let go, terrified that if she does he will vanish. Kyra grips fistfuls of her cousin's shirt and cries into his shoulder while he holds her and mutters comforting nonsense. She can feel the eyes of the whole damn bar on them and wants to snap at these kind people to fuck off, to mind their own damn business, because this is the cousin she hasn't seen in sixteen fucking years and she doesn't need a goddamn audience to their reunion.

It isn't until strong fingers close cruelly around a fistful of her hair and attempt to yank her away from her cousin that Kyra moves. In an instant she is crouched over Jericho's thighs with her back to him, arms encased in black magic up to the elbows and teeth bared in an animalistic snarl. Her eyes skim over Law in search of the threat that has just touched her before she pauses and gives her attention to her captain.

Who looks pissed.

Oh.

"Perhap you would be so kind as to explain to me what the hell is going on here, my magician?" the Surgeon of Death inquires quietly, his voice positively icy. Only now does Kyra notice that the bar is in shambles: the tables and chairs that aren't completely destroyed have been overturned, while all the lamps have busted and gone out. What might possibly be every glass in the place lies shattered on the floor. People are picking themselves up from where they were thrown. At some point the other Heart Pirates had converged on her position, and now stand behind their captain at the perfect angle to watch her.

...Oops.

"Um, Law, guys, this... this is my cousin. His name is Jericho."

* * *

><p>A cousin.<p>

Law sits behind the desk inside his cabin, secure now that he is back on his sub, and listens in silence as Kyra tells him about the relative she hasn't seen for the better part of two decades. Part of his mind is still baying for the stranger's blood for putting his hands on _Law's_ magician, cousin or not. Part of him is seething that this other man is able to bring such a carefree smile to Kyra's face and that happy glimmer in her eyes. Part of him is coldly waiting for her to tell him that she is leaving so that he can correct her faulty assumption - she's not going anywhere. Law will kill this... _cousin_ before he lets his magician set foot off this sub again.

"So we're going back to my home island," Kyra informs him cheerfully, grinning the grin of someone who is ecstatically happy. Visible in the hallway outside through the open door, the crew exchange glances between one another. They can tell what their captain is thinking, while Kyra continues to blithely gabble on. "Jericho's going to be the guide for my powers and we're leaving as soon as I get -"

"You are not," Law interrupts curtly. Kyra pauses in her ramblings, looking at him blankly as though she does not understand.

"I'm not what?"

The Dark Doctor leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking in his chin so that his eyes are hidden by the shadow of his cap. "I have not given you permission to leave. You're not going anywhere without my say-so. Or do I need to remind you that I am your captain?"

He watches as that blank expression slowly morphs into something dangerous. He does not move as the girl stands and stalks over to him, doesn't so much as twitch when she grabs the armrests of his chair and leans down until only inches separate their faces.

"Do you really think for an instant that you can stop me?" Kyra hisses, her hot breath washing over Law's face as he meets her furious gaze impassively. "Did you conveniently forget that I can slaughter you and your whole fucking crew if I need to? Don't you fuck with me, Law. I won't let anybody keep me away from my mother, least of all you. What exactly do you think you can do to keep me here, hmm? If you or one of your men goes near my cousin you'll be dead before you can touch him. What leverage can you possibly come up with to keep me here?"

Unimpressed by her threats, the Surgeon of Death uncrosses his arms and buries the fingers of one hand in her hair. He uses this handhold to yank her head back so that her neck is bared to him, ignoring her snarls and the black whip of her powers that crawls down his arm to rest against his throat. Uncaring of his audience Law leans forward and licks a long line up his magician's neck to her ear, holding her still when she struggles against him.

"I don't need leverage," he growls into her ear. "Your powers will keep you here because I've commanded it. Funny how they have yet to take my head off despite your rage, isn't it Kyra? Funny how you've managed to force a little strand around my neck but can't tighten it, can you? You can't convince that magic of yours to kill me, can you? Which means all your little threats are completely empty. Those powers have realized what you are still denying: that you are mine. I don't give a shit about your cousin. You are not going anywhere."

In an instant all the fight seems to go out of the woman, leaving her to slump over his lap with her head against his shoulder. Law does not ease his iron hold on her hair, does not acknowledge the curious looks from his men or the worried expression on the face of his magician's fucking cousin. He doesn't care what any of them think of his actions. They are his crew, the cousin a guest on his sub, and as such have no right to question whatever he chooses to do.

"Please," Kyra whispers, her breath warm through the fabric of his hoodie. "Please, it's my mother. I have to go. I need to go to her. What do you want? I'll do anything you want, anything if you'll let me go to her. Tell me what to do and I'll do it, anything, I swear."

"I am a pirate, Kyra, I take what I want without permission from anyone," Law counters smoothly, giving her hair a small yank. "Your begging is pointless. You will not leave this sub. Your cousin can do whatever he pleases, but if he tries to take you I will kill him in front of you."

"Don't you understand what I'm saying?" she wails, jerking her head up and grabbing handfuls of his hoodie as she glares at him. "He can take me back to my mother! My _mother,_ Law! Can't you understand how important it is for me to find her? I haven't seen her face in ten fucking years! I need this, I need to see for myself that she's alive! Why are you being such a jackass about this? What the fuck do you care if I leave or not?"

"Because you're mine," the surgeon answers simply, his anger at this whole situation growing by the minute. He wishes he had just killed the fucking cousin back at the bar instead of bothering to walk over and talk to the man. He glances over to see this Jericho being forcefully held in his chair by Jambarl, who has his massive hands clamped over the smaller man's shoulders. This is perfect, actually, as now that his strongest crewman has a hold on the little bastard, he actually does have some leverage.

Or so he thinks until Kyra turns her head and sees them.

She is out of Law's grasp in an instant, across the desk with a hand sunk up to the elbow in Jambarl's guts and the other clamping down around his throat. The girl pulls enough to break the skin, causing a small spurt of blood before she encases the quasi-giant's neck in black and lets go. She turns to Law where he is rising from his chair, her eyes onyx in shade and a terrible look on her pretty face. The rest of the crew shouts in surprise, starting forward until Kyra snarls and twists the hand still inside Jambarl's body. The large pirate gives a roar of pain as he drops to his knees, his crewmates freezing in their tracks.

"One step and he dies," Kyra whispers, her voice easily carrying through the silent room. Her damn cousin has bolted from his chair and retreated to a corner, a globe of protective magic shielding him from harm. All this time Law and his magician have not broken eye contact, his cold grey orbs narrowed nearly to slits in his fury and her black ones boring into him.

"You're right, Law," his magician concedes, sending involuntary shivers down his spine with that deadly tone. "I can't kill you. But the rest of this crew does not share your immunity. Them, I can hurt. Them, I can kill. And I'll slaughter every last one of them if you try to stop me from leaving.

"I'm holding Jambarl's guts in my hand, Law. I just ripped out his jugular, but he won't die unless I take my magic away from his throat. You clear this room of everyone else, you sit your ass back in that chair; or I will tear Jambarl's intestines to pieces and then let him bleed out, and I'll make you watch it."

Law has ascended into a level of rage unlike any he has ever felt before in his life. If not for the fact that Jambarl's life literally hangs in the balance, he would leap over his desk and lay his hands on his magician with the intent to kill. How _dare_ she threaten his men? How _dare_ she betray him like this? _How dare_ she presume to _order_ him to do a goddamn thing in his own fucking submarine? And the worst part is that he must do as Kyra commands. If he doesn't he has no doubt that she will kill his entire crew without a drop of remorse. She has just said as much, and this has shown him that she doesn't give two shits about these men. If ever she did, if Law has made any progress winning her over and integrating her with his crew, all of that is gone.

All because of her _fucking_ cousin.

"Get out," he barks at his men, jerking his head towards the doorway. "All of you. Go."

In seconds the room is empty but for Law, Kyra, Jericho, and Jambarl. As soon as Bepo hesitantly steps through the arched doorway into the hall beyond, a black barrier springs up behind him to ensure that no one can come back in. Law slowly lowers himself back into his chair and watches as Kyra carefully pulls her arm from Jambarl's innards. The girl places her bloodied palm on the wound, pouring white magic into the big man's body for a long moment before waving that same hand and removing the black power around Jambarl's throat. The damage done to his neck has been healed along with the hole in his abdomen, and Jambarl still goes down like a felled tree when Kyra releases him altogether. Law itches to go to his subordinate, to check his pulse and make sure he is breathing, but he forces himself to stay in his seat as his traitorous magician turns her attention back to him.

"He's in perfect health. He'll wake up later." Her voice is colder than Law has ever heard it before; if not for his rage he might be shocked at the iciness. "I'm leaving, Law. I don't care how it happens, but I _will_ leave. What you need to decide is if you want to be responsible for the death of your entire crew because of your own fucking stubbornness. Do you want to hold on to this bullshit belief that you somehow own me? _Nobody_ owns me. I will kill myself before I become a _possession_ of anyone ever again."

Kyra looks over her shoulder at him, an expression of weariness all over her face. "I don't want to hurt you. I saved your life, remember? I don't want to kill your crew. I don't want to skin the fur off of Bepo and leave it for you as a fucking hearth rug. But if you think for even a second that I will hesitate to murder every man on this ship or peel Bepo's hide from the rest of his body while he's alive and screaming for you to help him... if you think I won't do it and make you watch if that's what it takes to get back to my mother... then you are a fool, Trafalgar Law, and you deserve to suffer for your stupidity.

"Now you release me from my service to the Heart Pirates or I start painting this sub red."

Law wants nothing more than to bathe his senses in her screams. He wants to tie her to one of the exam tables in the infirmary and see how noisy she gets when he slices the flesh from her bones. He wants to take a leaf out of the scientist Merrick's books and pour ammonia down her throat. He wants to mix up his own special batch of chemicals and poisons to inject into her veins and observe as the mixture eats her from the inside out.

He wants to strip his magician bare and fuck her into oblivion, and then kill her with his own hands.

He does none of this. Instead, the slender pirate simply tucks his hat down over his eyes. Law then swivels his chair around and props his feet on top of a medical chest beside his desk. He laces his fingers over his stomach, offering no further indication of noticing either of them.

Taking this for his permission, Kyra gives a satisfied grunt. She is just stepping over to join her cousin when Law's voice stops her.

"If you decide to leave, Kyra, do us both a favor. Take a look at our flag on the way out."

She flinches at the word 'our'. The girl turns to regard him warily. Trafalgar Law smiles without looking back and begins to explain in a soft, assured voice.

"Recognize that it is not a cruise line flag flying over this vessel. It's a Jolly Roger. You sailed aboard a pirate ship... _my_ ship, to be exact. Whether you felt it was your only available option at the time doesn't change the fact that you are a part of my crew. You can whine and threaten and boast all you want, but if you leave without my approval, I will find you. You may indeed see your mother again, Kyra. And by doing so, you will have signed her death warrent. Because I will kill her."

From the corner of his eye he notices Kyra's mouth drop open slightly. She looks at Law as if only now seeing him for the first time. That is exactly the reaction he was hoping for. She needs to understand something. They both do, actually. His face turns ever so slightly in Jericho's direction.

"I will kill her mother," he repeats for the smug little shit's benefit. "Her, and _anyone_ else whose existence Kyra might feel invalidates her place at my side. One day you will look up to find the Heart Pirates at your doorstep. Her magic is not sufficient to stop _me. _Even if everyone under my command dies by her power, I will be there, to fulfill my word... and to take her back."

Jericho is now a sickly shade of pale and no longer looks quite so sedate. Beside him, the sorceress has begun to shake, hands fisted at her sides. "You... fucking _lunatic,"_ she breathes, teeth gritted, features working into a savage fury. "If you... fucking _touch..._ my family, I'll...!"

"Kill me? Before I can kill them?" He smiles now in a feral, humorless way. "That's quite a risk. Do you believe in your abilities to that extent, my magician?" The pirate captain taps his knuckles, tracing the letters tattooed there. D...E...A... "Or do you believe in me?"

The bitch wastes no time in darting to her cowering cousin's side and grabbing his arm. The next second both of them are gone, leaving Law alone in his chambers with an unconscious crewmate and an unhealthy amount of homicidal fury building in his gut.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Major parts in this chapter were contributed by the World's Most Awesome Beta, Tomas the Betrayer. He is a diabolical genius who will one day rule the world. When that day comes, you will remember that I called it first, before anyone else recognized his true potential.**_

_**Please review.**_


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Every instinct in Kyra's body begins screaming at her that something is wrong the instant her teleportation sphere sets them on the island of her birth. She ignores this, brushes it aside as unimportant. A quick look around allows her to orient herself before darting off in the direction of her mother's hut, dragging Jericho along with her. He does not protest her rough handling, still visibly shaken by Law's parting words of warning. Kyra has no time to stop and reassure him; she must find her mother. Everything else can take a backseat in her mind.<p>

In spite of the decade of absence, the frantic sorceress finds the city of Veneficus to be exactly as she remembers it. The buildings are built in ever-widening rings, with those of the powerful closest to the center and everyone else lumped in behind. Shops for various paraphernalia are interspersed within each layer, their wares depending on how far from the center they happen to be located. Between the districts are iron walls measuring several feet thick, sporting single doors and guarded heavily on both sides by apprentices of the head shaman. Spells and wards have been worked into the structures, ensuring that the citizens of each layer have no chance in hell of getting over, under, or through those walls without special permission to use the doors - permission which can only be granted by the head shaman, a pompous, powerful old fucker who is so revered by the islanders that his name is not to be spoken under pain of death. The sprawling metropolis stretches out to encompass the entire island, seventy-seven sectors all told.

Kyra wastes no time in pulling up a sheet of black magic in her mad dash for the door leading out of the central hub. She doesn't bother to stop and ask for an entry permit. She doesn't threaten the guards with dismemberment and disembowelment if they don't get the fuck out of her way immediately. The mage simply mashes her cousin into her side and sprints through the feet-thick iron door, caving it in as the wall of her powers connects with it, wadding the barrier into a ball and tossing it aside as though it is made of paper. The guards on either side are reduced to blood smears on the ground as her magic tears them apart.

Kyra's mother has no magical abilities whatsoever. She is not connected to the head shaman by blood or marriage, nor does she have ties with the Council. Naomi has lived on this island her entire life, and because of her lack of status she has been segregated with all the other undesirables into the farthest ring. It was in this location that Kyra was born and raised. And it was there that, during one of the gloating parades to showcase his power, the head shaman witnessed Kyra - age three - cause rocks and sticks of various sizes to fly through the air with wild gestures from her tiny arms.

This is the ring in which Kyra hopes to find her mother now, and if she is not successful in her search, then she will tear down this entire city brick by brick and stone by stone until she has what she seeks.

And she's fully prepared to kill anyone who tries to get in her way.

_Duck._

The word whispers through Kyra's mind like a sigh on the breeze ten layers in, and she is lying on the ground with Jericho beneath her an instant later. A jagged flash of white light misses her head by the barest of inches, striking the next door leading to another city circumference and exploding in on itself with a boom that sends shockwaves through the earth. Kyra immediately throws up a circular, transparent shield around herself and Jericho, crouching over him protectively as her eyes scan their surrounding in search of her attacker. What she finds is enough to have her swearing furiously.

Donum Proeliators. Mage soldiers of Veneficus.

Fuck_fuck**fuck**_.

Adorned in tunics of the purest white over brown leather trousers, the platoon of warriors march in perfect barefoot step. Their bare hands glow the same shade as their tunics, their eyes following the trend in a manner which has fooled many an outsider into mistakenly believing them blind. It is an error never repeated by the same person twice. On this island where magic is power, the Donum Proeliators are the equivalent to the World Navy. They are the fighting force of Veneficus, enforcers of the law, and executioners of all classes.

And right now fifty pairs of milky eyes are fixed on her.

**_Shit._**

The Proeliators come to a halt a mere ten feet from Kyra's shield. She does not move, watching them closely for the first signs of attack. One lone soldier steps forward, immediately drawing Kyra's full attention. Like all the others, he is dressed in the standard Proeliators uniform. The only difference is the black band which encircles his left arm just above the elbow. This denotes his rank to be that of an Imperator, highest command amongst the mage army.

_"Sordes,"_ the Imperator intones in a magically enhanced voice that would likely cause bleeding to the ear canal if not for Kyra's powerful shield. "The Veneratio Simultas commands your presence. You will come with us immediately."

_Sordes_ - filth. Veneratio Simultas - Honored Shaman. Kyra lets her eyes bleed black, onxy energy wrapped around her arms to the elbows as memories of her life under the thumb of that monster return. "Fuck you."

"Do not test my patience, _sordes._ You will come with us immediately. If you resist, we will use force. You are outnumbered and outmatched. Lower your demon shield and stand down at once. The Veneratio Simultas must not be kept waiting by trash."

Kyra forces her shield to shrink until only Jericho is protected, readying herself for a bloodbath. "Make me, you little shit. Your Veneratio Dickhead can kiss my ass."

The Imperator cocks his head slightly, regarding her out of dead-white eyes. Then, in a more natural voice all the more chilling for its softness, he speaks. "Your mother is waiting at the home of the Veneratio."

Kyra instantly freezes, the breath whooshing out of her lungs as though she has just been punched in the solar plexus. No. _No._ Don't let that be true...

"What did you just say to me?" the sorceress whispers, terrified of the Imperator's possible answer. She has to have misheard. There's no way her mother is really in that monster's home. Naomi hates the shaman as much as Kyra does. The only reason she would ever go near him would be in some half-cocked scheme to murder him. Kyra _must_ have heard wrong.

"I will not deign to repeat what you obviously know to be true."

Oh gods.

Kyra crosses the space between her position and the Imperator in a blink, her fist flying towards his heart with every intention of putting a hole through his chest. The highly trained fighter is ready for her, twisting to the side and bringing his glowing hand up in an arc towards her neck. She dodges, going into a sloppy roll and coming up with her back to the rest of the Proeliators. Panicking at the realization that she is not between the magical hitmen and her cousin, Kyra swiftly teleports, rejoining him and reinforcing the protection around Jericho's huddled form with a sharp gesture of one hand.

"You cannot defeat me," the Imperator informs her calmly, not in the least bit fazed by her sudden attack. "If you resist, your mother will die. If you flee, your mother will die. You will both come with us immediately, or your relatives will be dead within the hour."

Relatives? Fuck, that means they must have Uncle Chi. What should she do? Does she dare risk the lives of her family by trying to kill these men and storming the head shaman's home? Kyra is fairly confident that she can kill the Proeliators, but the shaman himself is another matter entirely. Has her magic matured enough over the years to trump the shaman on his own home field? If not, if she tries and fails, her mother will perish, along Uncle Chi and Jeri. Her whole family wiped out because of her mistake. Kyra bites her lip so hard she tastes the coppery tang of her own blood. She can't risk it. She can't fight.

The Demon Witch yanks her power back into her skin and relaxes her stance, hands hanging loosely at her sides. She can hear Jericho's shocked gasp from behind her as the protective shield vanishes. Kyra stands stock still as the Imperator signals his men to form a tight box formation around her, two of them taking her arms and twisting the limbs painfully behind her back. She says nothing as they are led back through the destroyed doors, staring straight ahead and refusing to acknowledge anything around her.

The march back to the inner ring is completed in absolute silence save for the sound of Jericho's heavy breathing.

The shaman's house is just as coldly beautiful as Kyra remembers. The entire structure is built of black obsidian, three stories tall with a myriad of windows. It is the largest home in the entire city, showing the shaman's rank and importance. Even the Council does not live in such a splendid dwelling. There are hundreds upon hundreds of wards carved into every inch of the reflective stone, symbols for everything from protection to the enhancement of power. The doors are of pure white marble; they swing open silently at a touch from the Imperator, revealing the magnificent splendor within. Rich tapestries hang everywhere. The floor is dotted with crystals of various sizes and colors, there for magic storage more than for decoration. An extravagant staircase of the same marble as the front doors spirals up to the floors above, cutting through the blackness of the obsidian like a beam of light.

And standing at the foot of those stairs is the shaman.

He is exactly the same as he ever was. A thin man of small stature, barely taller than Kyra had been as a twelve-year-old child. He does not possess an impressive musculature, nor is he prone to simple physical violence. As with the Proeliators, countless numbers of outsiders have taken one look at this elderly man and dismissed him as a weakling. And just like with his servants, it is not a mistake that any man makes a second time.

"Welcome back, _discipulus."_ His scratchy voice cuts her like a knife, sliding slick and slimy down Kyra's spine.

"Where is my mother?" the younger mage demands at once.

The shaman ignores her, placing his hands behind his back and slowly beginning to cross the room. "Long have I awaited the day that you would return, my student. Ten years it has been, has it not? Ten years since you abandoned your training and ran like a coward. Ten years since you left poor Naomi alone."

The sound of her mother's name on this... _creature's_ lips has Kyra fighting to control her powers. The voice is screaming in her head, baying for his blood, demanding his pain and his screams for daring to speak that name. Her magic pushes to break free, urging her to kill him _kill him_ **_kill_ _him_** -

**_"WHERE IS SHE?"_** The bellow bursts from her mouth without conscious thought, other voices layered with her own in a terrifying echo. **_"WHERE IS MY MOTHER? TELL ME, OLD MAN! GIVE HER TO ME!"_**

The shaman takes his time replying, all the while edging closer and closer. "Your mother is currently enjoying the hospitality of my daughter's favored guest. I believe the two of you know each other - quite well, actually, if he is to be believed."

Guest? What guest? Kyra knows his daughter, of course; Lihla, a bitchy blonde hellcat of the same age as herself. The girl once helped her father punish Kyra for a minor infraction by pouring agonizing magic into her body until she passed out from the pain. Given the chance she would gladly return the favor in kind, and without stopping until her victim was well and truly dead. But that explains nothing about what is going on her.

Apparently her confusion is evident on her face. The wrinkled little toad smirks knowingly at her, coming to a stop much too close and leaning in even further.

"Oh, you haven't figured it out yet? To be fair, the man is rather closed-mouthed regarding himself, though he makes no secret about his intentions regarding _you._ He has some rather unique talents of his own. You have good reason to be concerned, child; Rafe play well with others, as I have had reason to learn."

"Speak plainly, you shitty old windbag!" Kyra snaps, ignoring the burst of pain that radiates through her arms from the hands of the Proeliators that hold her captive. "What has this bastard done with my mother? If he so much as bruises her I'll slaughter your whole fucking family!"

"I assure you that your precious parent is quite beyond harm," the shaman replies, and something about the way his thin lips quirk after speaking has Kyra's guts tying themselves in knots. "Our guest will be here shortly."

"What about Dad?" Jericho suddenly blurts out.

His voice shocks the hell out of Kyra. She has completely forgotten about her cousin, has pushed everything else out of her mind. She cranes her neck to look at him over one shoulder, amazed to see that he is not being held by any of the Proeliators. Her cousin stands free in the shaman's foyer, sweating profusely and white as snow.

"I - I did what you wanted - I brought Kyra back. You said you'd let us leave. You swore! Where's my Dad?"

Kyra can feel the blood draining from her face. No. No, this isn't happening. Jericho is her beloved cousin, her childhood best friend, the boy who once promised to eventually save her. He would never betray her. He would never lie to her. He would _never_ stoop so low as to hand her over to the bastard of a man who did everything in his considerable power to make Kyra's childhood a living hell.

He didn't. Surely he didn't...

"Yes, yes, you've fulfilled your part of the bargain," the shaman is saying somewhere far away from Kyra and her all-consuming horror. "With no small help from my daughter, I will add. She spoke very highly of your acting skills, boy. Apparently the reunion with your demon witch of a cousin was very believable. Well done. My men will take you to where your father is being held once we conclude a little business. For now, the Imperator will escort you to a guest room, where you will wait quietly until you are collected. Gentlemen, if you would be so kind?"

Kyra watches, stunned into immobility, as the Imperator and the platoon of Proeliators surround her shamefaced cousin and march past her. Not once does Jericho look at her, nor does he say a word. The group walks right past the shaman, marches up the stairs to the second level, and disappears from sight. Kyra is left alone in the foyer with the shaman, who promptly reaches out and grasps her chin between his knobby fingers.

"Quite the fine woman you've grown up to be," he muses, turning her face this way and that until the sorceress snaps back to her senses and jerks away from him. "I can see why that man has grown even so obsessed with you since you last parted ways. You will make a fine vessel for the continuation of my family's line, once I stamp that demon magic out of you for good. What greater honor could there be for a low-born _sordes?_ We will bind your powers to us, and with you at our command, there is precious little we cannot accomplish. The world will be laid low at the feet of our family. You put a bit of a damper on my planning when you disappeared during chastisement like that, but thankfully that has been rectified. It amazes me what _sordes_ relatives will do to each other given the proper motivation, although I suppose the freedom of a cousin cannot be expected to measure up to the life of a father."

"Oh, Papa, of course a parent comes first. Only a demon would kill their own father."

Kyra whirls around, throwing up a shield on instinct alone and horrified that she did not notice someone standing behind her. She backs fast to the nearest wall, hands encased in black magic that swells around her like a whirlwind. Ready for the worst, the mage is given pause by the vaguely familiar blonde beauty currently closing the massive marble doors. Who is this? Why is she familiar? Confusion wrinkles Kyra's brow. Could this be Lihla? She has not laid eyes on her tormentor in ten years, why in the world is this woman so familiar to her?

The blonde - Lihla, it _must_ be Lihla - mock-gasps and puts a delicate hand over her pouty lips. "Oh, how rude of me. Didn't you kill your father, Kyra darling? I _do_ hope you'll forgive my slip."

The voice is what makes everything click, and at the instant of realization Kyra's face loses every last drop of color.

Oh, gods, the nurse. The Navy nurse Law saved from that ship days ago. The one who spent the journey locked up in Kyra's room with only a talking polar bear for the occassional company. The Heart Pirates had dumped her on the last island just hours ago, right before going to the bar in which Jericho had been waiting.

A set-up. It's all been a fucking set-up right from the moment Law dragged the blonde out onto the deck of that Navy ship. The shaman and his brood have orchestrated all of it.

"Is our honored guest not here yet, Papa?" Lihla is saying, having walked up to the shaman while Kyra was distracted and given him a kiss on his withered cheek. "How typical of him to be late. I do hope he isn't much longer. I'm sure Rafe will be just thrilled to see his dear Kyra again."

The shaman nods to her without taking his eyes off Kyra. "He should be here any moment now, my daughter. Have some patience; he has baggage with him."

Lihla's dainty nose scrunches in disgust. "Ugh, he's bringing those _sordes_ here? The house will be contaminated by such people."

Rage boils within Kyra at this description of her family. In an instant she has leapt away from the wall and pounced on the blonde bitch, taking her to the floor with both hands wrapped around her neck. She keeps the shield around her so that the shaman is unable to interfere, remembering from those hellish lessons all those years ago that her former teacher cannot penetrate that barrier. Kyra is free to straddle Lihla's tiny waist and lean over her, overwhelming fury in every line of her face.

_"WHAT IS THIS?"_ she screams at the other woman, her hands tight around that gracefully slim throat. _"WHY AM I HERE AGAIN? WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN MY FAMILY? WHAT **THE FUCK** DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME? WHAT THE **FUCK** KIND OF** SICK GAME** ARE YOU PEOPLE PLAYING? YOU CAN'T DO THIS! YOU'RE NOT FUCKING **GODS**, YOU CAN'T TOY WITH PEOPLE'S LIVES -"_

Balls of searing white magic explode against the outside of the sorceress' shield. An ashen-faced Lihla lifts a hand, encased in an eggshell color, and drives it into Kyra's shoulder up to the wrist. Kyra lets out a hair-raising scream as pain tears through her.

_"Sordes_ vermin!" Lihla gasps. "Let... _go!"_

She ignores this command, instead lifiting Lihla's head one-handed to bash it against the stone floor, knocking her unconscious with the blow. Rolling off and stumbling to her feet, she sees that the shaman is hurling multiple balls of energy at her shield in a futile attempt to weaken it, joined in his endeavors by a platoon of Proediators. Her protective bubble is rippling and shivering, but so far it's holding.

With the jerk of one clenched fist, the malicious mage yanks Lihla up to hover beside her, a tight band of black magic wrapped securely around her neck.

"Stop it right now or I'll fucking kill her!" she bellows, shaking her fist and swaying the limp body around in the air.

The shaman does not hesitate, nor do the Proeliators. Kyra opens her fist and slashes it towards the supernatural warriors, causing a handful to explode in a shower of blood and guts. This is not pleasing, as she had intended for all of them to die; the level of power she put behind that swing should have killed more than a measly five. She draws back a fist to repeat the gesture -

And has it caught in a firm grip from behind. Someone is inside of her shield! Turning, ready to take this intruder's head off, Kyra lets Lihla's unconscious form drop, pulls back her remaining arm...

And screams.

"Hello, lovey."

Kyra can barely hear him over her own howls combined with the wailing inside. Merrick is clutching her wrist in a death-grip. That sight alone would be enough to send her into a panic. But even worse is what he is holding in his other hand: it is a human face, the skin expertly flayed off the bone with the hair still attached. Like some kind of gruesome mask, this sad shapeless sack of flesh dangles from his fingers by its hair.

Even like this, Kyra recognizes her mother.

She knows it is Naomi's face: the scar starting above the right eye and disappearing into the hairline was given to her by Kyra's father right before she killed him. The eye sockets are empty now of those loving blue orbs, and the sagging lips hang open in a sad parody of life.

"Do you have a kiss for Mummy?" Merrick whispers.

And before she can move, he drapes the thing over her head like a hood.

Blackness descends upon her, and oblivion with it.

* * *

><p>Six days after his magician's temporary bon voyage, Trafalgar Law is about to step into his private bathroom. He has just finished slaughtering a tribe of aborigines and their extraordinarily large pet tigers, and is looking forward to cleansing himself of the evidence. However, the bloody pirate is stopped in his tracks by a knock at his door.<p>

Law sighs, running a tired hand through his matted hair. "Come in."

The portal is opened and Bepo shuffles through, his fur wet with blood around both claws and snout. In one paw he holds a familiar satchel. The sight of the bag has a certain mixture of lust and killing rage flaring up in the Dark Doctor's belly.

"You said I could use the shower in the extra room, Captain," Bepo reminds him quietly, setting his burden on the floor at the foot of Law's bed. "This was still in there. I think her soaps and stuff are still in the bathroom, too, but I haven't looked yet. I just thought you would want this with you."

Law gives a curt nod, watching as his first mate exits the room once more. Bepo has been extremely withdrawn and even quieter than usual these past six days. Not once has he said Kyra's name, and he has refused to partake in the conversations about her that the rest of the crew are still thriving on when they don't think their captain is listening. The bitch's betrayal has hit the sensitive bear hard.

Law lingers for a moment, eyeing the girl's pack before scoffing at himself and continuing into the bathroom. He has already been through all of his magician's things, prior to picking her up at Marineford months ago. It is doubtful that Kyra would have purchased anything new since then, as she has always been in his presence on all of the New World islands and he does not recall her doing any shopping. A shower is more important at the moment, anyway.

After the gore has been removed from his skin, Law sits on the edge of his bed and once again appraises the satchel at his feet. Stupid little girl, leaving all of her things on his ship when she has no plans to return. How foolish of her to leave not only her clothing but a detailed record of her daily thoughts... and that bauble of hers. Grey eyes narrow at this, and the surgeon reaches down to jerk the bag into his lap, opening it and dumping out the clothing. The leather-bound journal and the small pouch which holds Kyra's necklace fall out as well. Law tosses the empty sack aside and picks up the two items. The pouch he sets to one side for now. The diary he immediately flips open, leafing through until he comes to the newer entries.

_...just so fucking infuriating! Why the fuck does he have to touch me all the damn time? Would it kill the bastard to learn respect for my personal space? Between him and that damn chef, who tried to grope me yesterday, I feel like I'm constantly looking over my shoulder waiting for one of them to pounce on me. At least when the cook bothers me Bepo has a habit of popping up out of nowhere and showing off all his nice pointy teeth. I wish he'd do that with his pervert of a captain. Maybe if they'd stop harassing me like that these fucking dreams would go away. Every time I feel Law put his hands on me it's like I'm back at those labs for the shortest moment, with Merrick leaning over me and his hands on my skin. Maybe if I give in to the urge to vomit next time Law slings an arm over my shoulder he'll get the fucking hint and leave me alone..._

Law flips to the next entry

_...He saw the scar on the back of my neck. I had to go through some kind of checkup, since he apparently thinks I'm going to drop dead a week after Firefist's resurrection. He's such a mother hen sometimes, when he's not trying to stuff his hand up my shirt. Which he did during that damn exam, probably just because he wants to be an asshole whenever possible. And then he saw the signature and I just felt so dirty. He looked at me like it was my fault I got that name carved into me with a fucking scalpel. Yeah, well, fuck you, Law, and the horse you rode in on! Did I mention that it's apparently bad for my mental health to be around the man when he's drinking? He sniffed me tonight, just like his bear did that one time weeks ago. The guy's a fucking psycho. Gods, my hand's shaking so fucking bad I'd better stop before I fuck up the page. I think I'll just sit in the corner over here and hug something until the tremors stop..._

_...He saw me, he knows where I am oh gods what do I do should I leave? Bail on this crew before I get them all killed? Fuck, fuck, what do I do? I don't know, I can't think, oh gods his voice..._

_...So... Law kind of... gutted his cook today. Like literally cut the man open from collarbone to groin. Not that I'm complaining, because that beanie-wearing son of a fucking bitch-face had the nerve to call my mother a whore at breakfast. I haven't been that angry about anything in a long time. This totally trumped the temper tantrum about getting drugged and ending up in a slave auction, and I killed that asshole. I probably would have killed the cook this morning too, if Law hadn't come in and pulled me off of the bastard. And then he fucking guts the man himself. Cooky's only alive because I'm a fucking bleeding heart and healed him. Well, not the face; he deserved the face, but I fixed him up so he'll just have an angry-looking scar from now on. Law did that. Law. What the fuck does he care what's said about my mother? My captain is possibly walking around with more than a few screws loose upstairs..._

Every single one of the entries after Marineford, excluding the four sentences pertaining to their little adventure on Fishman Island, is about Law.

Interesting.

He skims idly through the first part of the book again, brooding over his magician's apparently fickle nature. It would seem obvious from her journal entries that she was growing to like the Surgeon of Death at least a little. Why else would all of these pages be filled with his name? If that is the case, then why did she leave? For a mother she hasn't seen in a decade?

Law decides that he will ask her once they find and recapture the girl - most people will tell you just about anything if they are subjected to enough pain. And Kyra is certainly going to become intimately familiar with the concept of agony. When Law is through with her, she will never again so much as acknowledge a miniscule speck of desire to leave the Heart Pirates. She might not be entirely sane at that point, but Law could really care less. He is going to immensely enjoy disposing of the girl's worldly connections until the only thing that holds sway over her will be his voice. He will erase the memory of this mother; destroy that fucker of a cousin along with the smug bastard's father; obliterate Merrick and the feel of any hands but Law's from Kyra's mind.

His own mother and her lectures on how to treat women can go hang. He is a pirate, not a gentleman, and it isn't as if he did not give the stubborn wretch ample warning.

A word from her early writings begins to pop out at the Dark Doctor from numerous pages. Reading this word, Law's eyes narrow in thought. Veneficus. It has caught his eye partly because of the frequency in which it is used and also because it is not a word he has heard before. Flipping back until he finds the first entry with this strange word, Law begins to read once more.

_...This makes forty tries in one fucking week to get back to her, and every time my fucking magic just dumps me in the middle of the stupid ocean somewhere. I almost got eaten by a Sea King! The fuck do I have to do to get back there! That teleporting sphere takes me all over Saboady, it got me out of those god-awful labs, so why the hell can't I go home to Veneficus? Mama's there! I can't just leave her! I want to see her again so badly it physically hurts. Why won't it take me back? I just want to go home._

It would seem that 'Veneficus' is the name of her home island. Strange that she has failed to return to the place multiple times before; it worked just fine this time. Perhaps this is why she said that her precious cousin would be the guide for her powers. Most likely she was only able to leave successfully because of her darling Jericho. Law is going to have a lot of fun killing that little twit for sure.

Dropping the journal on top of the pile of clothes, the Surgeon of Death picks up the small pouch he had set aside earlier and removes a half-heart necklace. Out of all the things his magician left behind, this little pretty is what baffles Law the most. Why would Kyra leave this on his sub when its partner had been so important to her that she had come within an inch of killing her own cousin over it? Had she simply not thought about it in her haste to get herself and that little brat out of Law's presence before he could make good on his promise and butcher the man? But if that is the case, why did her powers not collect her belongings as well? They have done so before, when all Kyra had ended up doing before being dumped back with the Heart Pirates was re-growing a man's arm. Why not this time, when she has run from him so foolishly? It makes no sense at all, and he is annoyed at his lack of understanding.

The cutthroat scoundrel rubs a hand over his face with a tired sigh. He has not slept for more than catnaps since his magician's departure. The rage inside him, the need to kill and maim and hurt, has kept him awake and vibrating with energy. But tonight, Law's body is adamantly letting him know that he needs to sleep. Depriving himself of rest will do nothing but make him more vulnerable, a chance he cannot take in the dangerous New World. Standing and sticking his head out into the hallway, he takes the necessary time to inform a passing Haru that he is not to be disturbed for anything other than a life-or-death emergency before shutting and locking the door. He makes himself comfortable in his bed, closes his eyes, and falls asleep with his hand still fisted around Kyra's necklace.

When he opens his eyes, it is to an endless sea of white. Snow lies heavy upon the ground, with still more falling in fat flakes towards the earth. Despite his bare chest and equally bare feet, Law feels no cold against his skin as he walks through the massive field before him. A small portion of his brain recognizes this as a field on his home island in North Blue, where he often came as a child. He realizes that he is dreaming, strangely cognizant of the situation, but brushes this off as his tired mind trying to calm him. This particular field is one which he would frequent after his latest experiment had failed or the older children had been stupid enough to start a fight with him. Only three miles from his childhood home, if he remembers correctly.

But why is he dreaming of this field?

"Fuck."

The pirate whirls around immediately, hand groping for a nodachi that is not there for only a moment before what he is seeing registers in his mind. Once it does, Law finds himself unable to do anything for a long moment as he stares at the woman in front of him.

Kyra is huddled in a tight little ball on the thick snow, naked as the day she was born and covered head to toe in blood and bruises. His magician is shivering violently, as though she can feel the cold while Law cannot. She is eyeing him with an expression that is somewhere between shock and resignation. After a long moment of tense silence, Kyra lets out a sigh and drops her head to rest against her rather mangled knees.

"Come to gloat?" she whispers, her voice raw as though she has been screaming. "Stupid little Kyra didn't just fucking stay with her captain, and now she's reaping her rewards. Fuck, like I really need you in my dreams with all my other problems."

Law watches in silence as the girl slowly falls onto her side, moving her hands from where they were previously clutching her thin ankles so that she lies with her knees hugged to her chest. His quick eyes dart along her nude body, taking in the bruises and deep gashes that litter her skin as well as large burn circles the likes of which he has never seen before. The burns are a nasty greenish color and all of them are weeping pus; Kyra has gotten them infected somehow.

"How are you in my dreams?" the heartless captain demands coolly, walking around behind his shaking magician to survey what damage has been done to her back. More bruises, more blood, more burns... and a brand that stretches from just below her shoulder blade all the way down her spine. A stylized R and an M, intertwined like the more popular slave brands usually are.

"Dunno," Kyra slurs, twitching as though in pain when Law kneels behind her to turn her on her back. Her face is the only part of her body that looks relatively unharmed, with only a bruised cheek and a split lip. Her eyes are bloodshot and dull, her unmarred skin chalky in its paleness. She is hideous; she is glorious; she is in Law's dreams.

He fists a hand in her blood-matted hair and holds her still as he kisses her, throwing one leg over her hips to straddle her. This time her teeth are not set, her jaw not locked. He plunders her mouth like the pirate he is, free hand sliding across her sticky belly. She tastes of sweetness and blood, and her breath is so cold Law's teeth ache with it.

Lust rages through him like fire. Every inch of skin that touches her burns for more. He wants this to be real. He wants to bury himself inside her. He bites on her busted lip, sucking the blood into his mouth, lavving the slit with his tongue to aggravate it further. More, more, he must have more.

Kyra does nothing. She neither struggles nor kisses him in return, merely lies like a corpse under his mouth and hands, shivering in the snow.

"She's dead," Kyra murmurs when he releases her lips and moves to lap at a deep cut just under her chin. "He beat you to her. Will you kill me instead?"

Law hums noncommitally, pressing his fingers into a fist-shaped burn on her side as he suckles the gash on her neck. He wonders idly if Kyra's magic has somehow altered her chemical make-up, for her blood to taste like liquid sugar to him. His fingers are wet with her infection, the pressure he is putting on the burn enough to rip screams from the throats of the toughest men.

She doesn't even seem to notice.

"Please," she rasps softly as he trails his tongue down to her collarbone, moving his arms so that his hands clutch at her ribs. The bones jut against her skin like those of a starvation victim. "Please, I just want to die. Kill me before he wakes me up. Please."

Her wounds are healing as she lies beneath him. The surgeon watches as the burns slowly fade to shiny scars, the cuts closing up and the bruises fading away. He wonders if this is because her powers are healing her body in the physical world. He leans down to lick up a line of blood just above her left breast, breathes in the scent of her. It isn't right; Kyra should smell of lavender and steel and woman, not copper and sweat and cadavers.

"And why should I give you what you want?" Law hisses, digging blunt nails into her skin. "Why should I kill you when I haven't had the opportunity to discipline you for leaving against my explicit orders? Why should I deprive myself of the entertainment awaiting your return to my crew?"

"Then torture me!" She is becoming animated now, more herself, releasing her own body from its death grip and grabbing at his biceps. "I don't care! We're in your imagination, you can do anything here! Conjure up whatever and torture me into insanity! Peel my skin off! Cut out my organs! Rape me, give me to your damn crew, I don't care! Just promise me when you're done with me you'll kill -"

She stops, sea-blue eyes too wide in her face, blanching so pale Law thinks she would faint if not for the fact that she is already asleep.

"Oh, gods," his magician breathes out, sounding equal parts horrified and bitterly amused. "Of course. _Of course._ That's why the fucking ceremony isn't working. It's you..."

Law grabs her wrists and pins her arms to the snow, moving to snarl quietly in her ear. "Explain."

"The ceremony... to bond two people from my island... The magic chooses a person and if you're agreeable... oh, _gods!"_

Hysterical laughter shatters the stillness of the field, shrill sounds as mirthless as a death wail.

"It's _you..._ you, oh fuck... that's why I can't bond with _him,_ I'm bonded with _you..._ oh fuck why? Why me? Why why why..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" the Dark Doctor snaps, the curse spilling out as his anger and confusion rise.

"Six days... six fucking days of torture because it wasn't working... _you_ were why all this time... it chose _you_ of all the fucking people in the world!" The insane cackling has changed to wrenching sobs, the girl's entire body practically convulsing with the force of them. Law watches, teeth grinding together in his need for her to explain herself, itching to wrap his fingers around that slim throat and squeeze. The next words bawled out of her mouth stop the pirate captain cold.

"My fucking magic bonded me to you! That's why it doesn't hurt you! That's why we're sharing a dream! Oh gods, I'm fucking soul-bonded with you!" Kyra looks up to him, her face streaked with tears and her eyes devastated beyond anything he has ever before seen. She opens her mouth, starts to speak again -

And Trafalgar Law jolts awake to a quiet knocking on his bedroom door and Bepo softly announcing that breakfast is ready, covered in sweat with a major problem that is extremely uncomfortable to wake up with in the morning. His hand is coated in drying infection drainage, his chin feels sticky, and he can still taste the sweetness of her blood. The tiny necklace remains securely clutched in his fist.

And his magician is nowhere to be found.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Rafe Merrick examines the woman with glazed eyes laid out on the table before him in all her bare feminine glory. They have finished for the day. He is watching as the almost sentient black magic heals his subject's wounds. Three months ago the process would have taken all night. Today it has been only a handful of hours and her skin is nearly fully repaired. Somehow, little Kyra's powers are growing despite the hundreds of wards carved into the very stone of this building that are meant to prevent that very thing from happening. Every day she is becoming stronger, and every time his soul-bonding ceremony is rejected, the shaman with whom Merrick is allied grows weaker.<p>

His lovey has thrown a wonderful little wrench in his plans.

He remembers the first time he saw this woman, over a decade ago in that corrupt cesspool of Marine Headquarters. Such a tiny little thing she was then, terrified of the unfamiliar surroundings and naively believing Sengoku meant to help her. Merrick smiles at the memory of that awe-inspiring moment there in the old fool's office when his Kyra lost control for just a moment and killed one of the Marines on guard, the psychic abilities he inherited from his father - one of several - screaming their recognition of fearsome magic at work. Such amazing power in one so young. The power of not only death, but life as well, which she demonstrated when she burst into tears and somehow brought the dead soldier back to life. Amazing indeed, and enough for Sengoku to decide that the girl was to be locked away forever. It was the Admiral who handed Kyra into Merrick's care, giving him free reign to experiment to his heart's content and thereby figure out how this tiny child wielded such dangerous might.

What fun the eager scientist has had with this woman.

Her body's stamina and regenerative capabilities are singularly amazing. To think that any human can withstand what she has endured since her youth defies the laws of natural science. By all the logic in the world Kyra should never have lived to see the age of thirteen, and yet here she is as an adult, still alive against all the odds. And her powers are stronger than ever.

With Kyra under his control, the possibilities open to him are endless.

"She has healed sufficiently," the old shaman declares, his hoarse voice pulling Merrick back to the present. The elderly wizard waves a dismissive hand at his battered prisoner. "Take her back to her cell. We shall begin anew tomorrow."

Two of the shaman's magical thugs step up to the table and carelessly drag Kyra's limp body off of the flat surface, holding onto her arms so that she hangs between them. Merrick watches as they exit the spacious ritual chamber, his girl's feet trailing on the cold marble floor until the trio vanishes from sight.

Three months they have been at this. Three months of this ceremony that is meant to bind Kyra to Merrick on the level of their souls, giving him full control over her every action and putting her impressive powers at his disposal. The psychic is growing increasingly impatient with every failure the shaman makes. The beatings Kyra is receiving after each botched ritual are doing nothing but adding more scars to her body. Whatever is going wrong, physical injuries are not the answer, no matter how severe. The shaman is a fool if he has not realized it by now.

Kyra knows the answer to this dilemma. Merrick can see it in her eyes every time their bonding is rejected. He is curiously unable to enter her mind as he has done in the past, nor is he able to use his abilities to get a reading on her emotions. She is closed to him in a way that has never before been an issue, and all the while she grows more powerful by the day. They are running out of time.

They need to bind her soon, or their window of opportunity will disappear.

Dainty white hands press against his chest, once more snapping the madman out of his thoughts just before Lihla leans into him.

"You're so tense, Rafe," the shaman's daughter cooes, fluttering long golden lashes in what is clearly supposed to be a seductive manner. "Come dine with me. Relax. The _sordes_ witch cannot refuse you forever. She will break soon enough, and then she will be ours to command."

Merrick gives her a charming smile, offering his arm to her as any gentleman would. She need not know what a fool she seems to him, this harpy and her senile old father with their belief in his loyalty to them. It had been a brilliant stroke of good fortune when the scientist had run across Lihla just days after Kyra escaped him on Fishman Island. The blonde woman had been instantly infatuated by this strange man with such obvious gifts, astonished to find such a power outside of her own island. A nice dinner and a few well-placed compliments were all that he required to woo Lihla into arranging a meeting with her powerful father. The parent was just as easily manipulated as the child, eager to join forces with a complete stranger for the chance of reacquiring a dangerous tool. A few empty promises later, and the shaman had been happily handing over Kyra's mother, along with a visiting uncle and cousin.

Everything went off so easy. The Marines' information network kept a close eye on all the Supernovae and where they might be heading in the New World. From there they were able to determine a suitable area of the ocean to lie in wait for the Heart Pirates. It had only taken a little time for Lihla to happen upon the crew with whom Kyra was traveling. She had effortlessly played the role of terrified, mute nurse, correctly assuming that Kyra would not recognize her after a ten year separation. A Den-Den Mushi hidden in her clothing had put her in direct contact with Kyra's cousin, to whom she had relayed their destination. The boy did exactly as ordered, tricking his own blood into ending up captured in a desperate attempt to save the life of his father. If Merrick remembers correctly, the happily reunited duo are still somewhere on this island, a home having been provided for them as both payment and prison so that the shaman could keep an eye on them. The old man is taking no chances that the cowardly pair will leave his domain and seek outside aid for the girl they betrayed.

He wonders briefly if this uncle suffers nightmares about being forced to watch as Merrick peeled his sister's face off while she was still alive. Naomi's death had not been planned; it was simply a spur-of-the-moment decision. What better way to break the girl than to kill the one person she loved more than any other? He has not forgotten the adolescent child screaming for her mother during the years of experimentation. It seems as though his plan to break her at least partially succeeded: Kyra has said not a word to anyone all this time since he draped her precious parent's face over her head. The only sounds she makes are ones of pain.

Merrick pulls out his hostess' chair and conducts her into her seat, all the while planning. He has lost what little faith he had in this soul-bonding scheme. For whatever reason, it is not working, and his leave from his department under the Navy's watch is almost up. He does not wish to suffer yet another setback in his plans if Kyra is not under his control before he returns to work. His every ambition rests of her enslavement to his will.

He will give it one more week. If Kyra is not subjugated by that time, he will be forced to consider alternate options.

And the shaman and his pathetic little daughter will have outlived their usefulness.

* * *

><p>After three solid months of visitations, Trafalgar Law is not surprised to fall asleep and find himself in the presence of his magician. She is sprawled out in the same snow-covered field all of these dreams begin in, lying on her stomach and dressed in a ragged grey smock that falls to her knees. Thick white flakes are dotted within the black mop of her hair. It seems this time Kyra has been in his mind for a while. That is not unusual; she has confessed to the sadistic surgeon that she falls into this place every time upon losing consciousness, whether Law is asleep or not.<p>

It's barely after sunset now. The Dark Doctor has given himself a very mild sedative to get to sleep, just on the off chance Kyra would be here. A golden locket lies in his grip, more precaution than anything else. Bepo is currently watching over him in the infirmary, ready to wake his captain if he has not roused in three hours.

Law lowers himself to sit in the snow beside her and weaves his fingers into her hair, lightly raking his nails over her scalp. Kyra shudders but does not otherwise move from her sprawled position. Three months ago she had fought him tooth and nail the first time he did that in these dreams, screaming at him that he had no right to touch her like her precious dead mother would. She had kicked, punched, spat, and clawed at Law until he had altered the dream setting so that she was tied to a replica of one of the tables in the infirmary, unable to do anything but curse at him desperately. In the meantime the Surgeon of Death had quite a bit of fun with a conjured scalpel and this girl who deliberately disobeyed his orders by leaving. Her mother might be dead and therefore out of his reach, since Kyra cannot bring the deceased back to life without a body, but his magician is readily available to him whenever he feels the need to punish her for desertion of his crew. He will take care of the other family members at a later date.

Law doesn't feel like playing today. He has things he needs to tell her.

"We have entered a territory of the New World that is known to be under the protection of the Yonkou Red-Haired Shanks," Law informs the girl, stroking her scalp as he speaks. He pauses for a moment, waiting to see if Kyra will react to this announcement. The sorceress moves her head so that she can peer up at him from one eye but says nothing. "I am going to call in the favor he owes you for the re-growth of his arm. As a former member of the Roger Pirates, Shanks has a superior knowledge of the New World. I will convince him to lead us to Veneficus." The surgeon frowns heavily at this admittance, not pleased that he is being forced to ask for help from someone else. Law would rather find the damn place himself, but the fact is that he has been searching for this elusive island for three months without so much as a whisper confirming its existence outside of Kyra's journel. He is growing bored with the search and frustrated with his own failings, tired of seeing his magician waste away because of whatever her captors are doing. He is fed up with only being able to play with her in his dreams, despite her monotonous assurance that whatever injuries he inflicts on her in his mind will transfer over to the waking world.

Kyra moves her head against so that her face is once again pressed into the snow, hiding from the pirate like a child. "If you'd just kill me like I've been asking you wouldn't have to go beg the Yonkou for help."

And the Dark Doctor is sick to death of her continuous pleas for him to end her life.

"You might not have to anyway," the girl barrels on before he can make his displeasure known. "Give me about a week and I think I might be able to get out of here."

Law frowns, fisting his hand and using Kyra's hair to pull her head up so that he might force her to look at him. "You told me that the wards within your prison are sapping you of your powers. Didn't you say that was why it takes longer than usual for your wounds to heal?"

His magician has told him many things about her home island and the building in which she is now kept. He knows that she was born of the lowest class, those referred to by the elite as _'sordes'_ or filth. He knows that she has possessed the capability to use her strange powers since toddlerhood. This had apparently caused quite a stir, due to the fact that no one in Kyra's family has ever shown the slightest magical talent and the odd black color in which her powers manifested themselves, so different from the eggshell white of the other islanders. She was forced into an apprenticeship at the age of five, seven years earlier than any other magical child on Veneficus. It was rumored that her mother had been in cohoots with a demon, who had given her only child these dark powers while she was still in the womb. Kyra had spent her childhood reviled by everyone, shunned and hated and secretly feared for being different.

It still baffles Law's mind that she would willingly return to this place just for the chance to see her mother again.

"The wards are supposed to be designed to weaken me," Kyra is telling him now, her tone indifferent as always. "The shaman has gloated _ad nauseum_ that he used my blood from the apprenticeship contract I was forced to sign as a kid to anchor the wards into his home on the off chance I ever came back. I don't know why they aren't working as well as they used to, I just know that I can feel them fading a little more every day. Like I said, give me a week and I'll be out of this hellhole. There's no point in going to Shanks. What the hell are you going to do against warriors who throw balls of magic at you anyway? Smirk them to death?"

The pirate ignores her jab, filing the comment away for later so that he might punish his magician when he gets his hands on her in the real world. The landscape starts to change around them; the snow vanishes to be replaced by an endless expanse of white sandy beach, a full moon hanging low in the sky and bathing them both in its light. Sea water washes in waves over Law's feet, not weakening him for the first time in years.

Kyra gingerly shifts in the glowing sand so that she sits cross-legged beside him, her hair still held captive by his tattooed fingers. The Dark Doctor loosens his hold only enough so that she is able to look around, taking in the change in setting with dull blue eyes. Three months ago she would have still grumbled about such an abrupt switch in scenery, irrationally annoyed at Law's experimentation with his control over these shared dreams. Now she shows no reaction at all.

With every day that passes Kyra grows quieter. Every time they share a dream she is thinner, frailer, more vulnerable. His magician is slowly fading away, either as a result of her continued captivity or because she is so set on dying he is not sure. It doesn't matter to Law either way; what matters is that _he_ refuses to allow her to pass into the void. Kyra is **_his,_** and he absolutely refuses to give her up. He is the Surgeon of Death, and Death will not be permitted to take what is his.

It is for this reason that Law uses his hold on Kyra to pull her head towards him, pressing his lips against the skin of her temple.

"You will not die," he hisses in a commanding tone, yanking on her hair and trailing his mouth down her cheek to her chin and then her throat. "I forbid it. You will stay alive no matter what is done to you."

And just as it has ever since the first time Law uttered that order, Kyra's magic rises out of her and wraps the two of them in a sheer cocoon of protective energy, acknowledging the words of its mistress soul-bonded partner. Thanks to the girl's grudging admission, he knows now that her powers will follow his commands to a certain extent, as long as she isn't completely against it or it won't put her in danger. She has been hopeful that her wishes will still take priority, but since the magic refuses to kill her and cannot bring her mother back, there is nothing for Kyra has to test that theory.

The girl's shoulders sag dejectedly as the shield disappears, her glazed eyes dulling even further. "I hate you. You have _no idea_ how much I hate you."

"I agree," he murmurs against her pulse, biting down just enough to bruise her. She is shaking against his side, her bony arm quivering like a leaf in the wind. Law slides his free hand around her back, cupping her opposite hip and pulling her closer. He drags Kyra into his lap and buries his nose in her hair, searching for the lost scent he remembers from her time on his sub. The clothing she left behind still retains her aroma, but the body he holds smells of nothing but blood. It sparks the carefully banked embers of the rage that sleep inside the pirate captain, that this _Merrick_ has changed his woman so much in so little time. Three months, and Kyra's body, her eyes, her will, even her fucking _scent_ are different. She is becoming a shell of Law's magician, and the thought infuriates him. He thinks it will take a long time for Kyra to become herself again, and the wait - which has yet to even truly begin - is driving him crazy.

It's just a little bit difficult to have sex with an empty shell, after all.

This separation has done nothing to cool the fires of lust that flair within the Dark Doctor every time he so much as thinks about his magician. Although she has not admitted such, Law is suspicious that this soul-bond she hates so much is amplifying his desire for her. He has had other women in the past months, attempting to sate himself with someone else as he cannot with her. He is still Trafalgar Law, of course, and even out here in the increasingly dangerous New World, he has the natural charm necessary to have women crawling all over him. The relief they bring him only lasts until he falls asleep and sees Kyra's painfully thin form laid out on the snow of his dreams.

He wants to fuck her so bad that at times he physically hurts, but the surgeon is not a fan of necrophilia, and in her present state sexual intercourse with Kyra would be roughly equivalent to that.

"When I have you back on my ship," Law whispers against her neck, "you will never leave my side again. You... are... **_mine."_**

"I'm not coming back."

Law pauses in his casual assault of her slim throat. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not coming back."

He takes her to the ground at once, straddling her and holding her arms to the sand with his knees in case she tries to fight him. Kyra does nothing, puts up not even the slightest struggle. She lies there beneath the dangerous Supernova and stares up at him with listless, empty eyes.

"Not coming back, hmm?" the pirate captain muses, eyes scanning the body under him. "I suppose you don't feel you have any reason to return, correct? Not even to collect that lovely trinket of yours, it would seem. It will be somewhat difficult to force you back to where you belong without leverage, due to your endlessly stubborn nature. Hmm..."

He brings one hand up to about shoulder level, like a waiter balancing an invisible tray. A scalpel immediately appears on his palm. Lowering it swiftly, Law cuts the smock off of Kyra with one motion, easily brushing the slit fabric aside with his empty hand as he positions the exceptionally sharp blade between the girl's breasts. Her face has not changed. No fear is present in her eyes, no trepidation at what he means to do to her. Perhaps she thinks that he will finally grant that silly wish; maybe she thinks that she is about to die.

Kyra is sorely mistaken.

"Room."

A small bluish square sinks into Kyra's chest. Her eyes widen in presentiment of new horror, but Law is too pleased with himself to notice. As she watches him with increasing concern, he holds up one hand from which dangles the half-heart-shaped locket she once so prized. Using his Devil Fruit ability, he then very carefully encases his magician's chest cavity in the field of his power. When it is fully covered, the Surgeon of Death lowers his scalpel and cuts out her heart.

Before Kyra can so much as draw breath he has replaced the organ with the locket through use of his Devil Fruit, leaving an otherwise empty hole in the Demon Witch's chest.

Once he is finished the incision immediately closes in a flash of healing white. As soon as it is in his hands, the Heart Pirate Captain leans down and lightly runs his tongue over the thrumming thing, savoring the faintest traces of her sweet blood as dawning horror spreads across her face.

"You - what - what did you -?" Her voice is weak, fluttering like a trapped little bird, like the organ he holds gently in his tattooed hand. The bloody scalpel fades out of existance as Law reaches up to stroke Kyra's bone-white cheek, smirking smugly at her all the while.

"How's _this_ for leverage?"

He kisses her with bruising force just before he wakes up, Bepo's paws shaking his shoulders frantically and his magician's wildly beating heart resting in his grip.

* * *

><p>Kyra jolts awake screaming, her powers flaring uncontrollably and thin cords of black magic taking chunks out of the walls of her cell. Her hands fly to her chest, bypassing the smock with its slit up the middle, frantically scratching at the spot under which her heart should be beating fit to burst.<p>

There is nothing; no insane pulse, no docile thumping in a calm rhythm. Only emptiness.

Ohgods-ohgod-_**ohgods!**_

Trafalgar Law has just cut out her heart in the dreamscape, and that condition has transferred over to reality.

**_FUCK!_**

She curls up on her lumpy mattress, hugs her knees to her chest, and cries. Dammit! _How_ did he _do_ that without killing her? Law just sank that fucking scalpel into her chest - _painlessly_ - and removed her heart like he was taking apart a child's toy! To make matters worse, he even replaced it with what she can sense is her own locket! The thought has Kyra feelin weak with revulsion all over again. Removing it would be simple, only she has no idea what might happen as a result. She could die, which in her current situation would not be allowed. And right now, even thoughs of death offer her absolutely no comfort. She can _feel his fingers_, touching something no fucking hand should _ever_ touch. Trafalgar Law, Supernova super rookie, captain of the Heart Pirates, is right this moment holding Kyra's heart in his hands.

The sorceress is certain she's going to be sick.

_How's **this** for leverage?_

Leverage? He cut out her heart for _leverage?_ Bastard! Why didn't he just give her an order? Kyra has already admitted that her powers will comply with his demands. He could have commanded her to return to the Heart Pirates. He could have ordered her to teleport to his bed stark naked the second she has the ability to do so. Instead, Law has used their shared dreams, the connection forged by the soul-bond Kyra has never wanted, _to cut her fucking heart out of her chest._ For **_leverage._ **Is there no limit to that man's cruelty?

Oh, how Kyra **_hates_** Trafalgar Law.

Because of him, she is trapped in the shaman's dungeons, taken out by the Proeliators only to be tortured by the old fucker and Merrick. Sure, Law didn't technically ask to be soul-bonded to her either, but if he had never tried to buy her at that fucking slave auction what seems like a lifetime past, it never would have been an issue. If he hadn't placed her in a position where she had to kill that Marine while in his unwanted company, she never would have been forced to join his damn crew. If he hadn't tried to treat her after Marineford, Kyra's freakin' magic never would have gone bat-shit insane and chosen _Trafalgar Law_ of all people as her soul mate.

Law is _stroking_ her missing organ, petting it like one would a domesticated animal. Kyra wonders wildly what in the world the man plans to tell the rest of his crew about just why the fuck he is in possession of a beating human heart. Has he said anything to them about the soul-bond? Do they know about the shared dreams? The thought is humiliating; such a bond should be a private thing, not broadcasted to the world. Not joked about amongst the crew she abandoned.

She wishes he would just close his fingers around her heart and squeeze until it explodes.

"Bad dreams, lovey? Dreaming of Mummy?"

Kyra flinches, curling tighter into herself and screwing her eyes shut as though to block out that voice. She doesn't want to deal with Merrick. Not now, not when she can feel the sword callouses on Law's fingers against one of her very important internal organs. The deranged scientist has never come to her in her cell before; why the fuck did he have to choose to do so tonight?

Merrick settles in outside and continues to remonstrate her casually. "I only did what was best for you, Kyra-lovey. The woman was only a crutch for you to eventually fall back on, and she would never have accepted our bonding. You're better off without her, I think. You'll come to agree with me in time."

Kyra makes no response. Never in her life has she wanted to kill as badly as she does around this man. Before, during her years as his prisoner and after her escape, he was the monster that terrorized every moment of every day - a thing to be feared above all else. Now, after he has taken her mother from her - after he draped the skin of Naomi's face over her head like a shroud - Kyra burns with the need to spill his blood. She wants to tear him limb from limb with her bare hands. She wants to make him suffer unimaginable pain. She wants his corpse beneath her feet, so the overwhelming terror that suffocates her every time he is near will disappear.

But as with so many other times in her life, Kyra is denied what she wants. All attempts to butcher this man have all failed. With the shaman's wards surrounding her day and night, the sorceress has not had enough power yet to obliterate him in the manner she has hoped for. Even if all the magic in the world were currently at her disposal, Kyra is unsure if she can actually kill Merrick. She tried so many times over the years in his labs, killed countless numbers of his assistants and visiting officials come to gawk at the freak. The most she was ever able to do was shatter his bones. She still doesn't understand this. How can he still be alive when everyone else she's ever tried to kill has died instantly? What _is_ he?

Merrick is speaking again, talking to her from the bars of her cell, his voice having moved low to the ground indicating that he is seated on the cold stone.

"When will you stop this childish rebellion, lovey-dearest? How much longer must we do this before you accept the fact that you belong to me, that you will _always_ belong to me? Eventually this pompous old shaman is going to figure out what it is that you are doing to block our bonding? It would be so _easy_ to give in, wouldn't it Kyra? Just give in, and no one will ever cause you another moment's pain. No more fear, lovey. When we bond, there will be no one in the world with the power to oppose us. Nations will fall at our feet. The World Government will collapse under our might. Wouldn't you like that? Don't you want to make them suffer for all the things that were done to you?"

Now isn't that just a perfect way for the bastard to word that question. Not 'what I did to you'. As if Merrick had had no part in the experiments. As if he didn't enjoy every second of it. Law would be sarcastically applauding him right about now.

Dammit, why does that bastard have such a monopoly on her thoughts even at a time like this? She should be figuring out how she's going to kill all her enemies gathered under this roof, not wondering how her soul-bonded prick of a partner would be reacting in her situation. It's bad enough that the man is _palpitating her fucking heart_ right now like it's a super-sensitive stress ball, she does _not_ want to think of him while being forced to listen to Merrick's bullshit!

"I have so many plans for us, lovey," Merrick whispers, his tone making Kyra's skin crawl. "Give in to me, and I will give you the world."

That offer would have no meaning even before all this happened. He took the world from her when he killed her mother and did whatever with the body. All he can give her now are empty promises. His threat of the shaman's interference is just as empty; if the old bastard ever does pull his head out of his ass long enough to check for a preexisting soul-bond like he should have done the first time he tried the official ritual and it failed, the most he can do is torture her some more. There is no way to break a soul-bond except for one of the bonded to kill the other. Kyra cannot so much as scratch Law with her magic, and Law will not end her life because he knows that is what she craves. The shaman will not be able to do a single damn thing.

The battered sorceress just wants to go to sleep and never wake up. Her life is a nightmare. Her mother is dead, the body either disposed of or locked away in one of Merrick's laboratories. Her cousin betrayed her into torture and captivity. She is tied to the Surgeon of Death for the rest of her life, and thanks to that she can only die when he gives her leave to do so. The mental catalogue of her woes has cold tears chasing each other down her cheek, and the light stroke of Law's gentle fingers over the surface of her heart is just the shit-flavored icing on the cake of the Demon Witch's life.

Kyra curls into the tightest possible ball, wraps as much of her magic around herself as she can, and tries to block out the world.

It doesn't hold anything of interest to her now, anyway.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Kyra can feel Trafalgar Law's fingers gently stroking her heart.<p>

Such a strange feeling. It does not hurt, which at first was cause for great surprise. Surely it should be painful to have someone touch an internal organ? Yet Law handles her heart in his rough hands dozens of times every day and she never feels pain.

Breathlessness, nausea, depression, fury; she _feels_ lots of things when he plays with her.

Just not pain.

He will doubtlessly bring it into their shared dreams once they both fall asleep, as he has for the last few days since removing the vital organ from her chest. For some sick reason, the Surgeon of Death seems to be obsessed with the taste of Kyra's blood. Somehow, having been cut from her chest by way of Law's Devil Fruit ability, the mage's heart remains filled with blood. It still beats. Kyra has spent the last six nights watching the pirate with whom she is soul-bonded suck on it like a child savoring a piece of candy. She has had her suspicions before that Law is absolutely insane, but this... this is just _wrong._ There are legends about pale blood-sucking monsters that require the crimson liquid to survive, but somehow she doubts that is the case with the Heart Pirate captain.

The feel of his mouth on her heart is without doubt the strangest thing she has ever felt in her life. Probably the closest thing to that in discomfort would be the upsurge in physical attraction that occurs during every one of these damn dreams. The lust had been expected, of course: her long-ago 'lessons' with the shaman had at least somewhat prepared her. But still, Kyra never expected it to be like _this. _She didn't know that it would be so painful. It physically hurts not to touch the Surgeon of Death in the dreams, not to kiss him back when his lips are on hers, not to put her hands on his bare chest to feel his twisted heart beating. It is an increasing struggle not to lean into his hand when he buries his fingers in her hair.

This... compulsion for touch is frightening. Kyra doesn't want it, she doesn't want _any_ of it. She can't abide staying forever bound to Trafalgar Law, doomed to share his dreams. She is terrified at the thought of being forced by this damned bond to... to... _mate_ with the sadistic pirate. It makes her skin crawl just considering it. She tells herself that the possessive feelings, the fear for his well-being, the possible tiny amount of curiosity or attraction she might have felt while part of Law's crew means nothing now. Her world has crashed down around her ears, and all those old feelings are like so much dust in the wind.

The sorceress just wants it all to end. She wants to be released from the hell her life has become. Death would be such a gift to her at this point.

The problem is, nobody ever gives a shit what she wants; and this time is no different.

The grinding sound of the cell door opening has Kyra wearily opening her eyes from her position in the corner, leaning tiredly against the wall next to her sorry excuse for a mattress. She slides an uncaring glance at the small group of Proeliators waiting outside the cell, eyes white with their power as their Imperator steps forward and grasps her shrunken upper arm in cold fingers. He hauls her up and marches her out, his men falling into step around them as Kyra stumbles along on trembling legs, so weak that only his iron grip on her wasted arm keeps her upright.

Maybe the starvation diet courtesy of her humble hosts is working a bit better than she thought.

The exhausted sorceress wonders where they are going now. It is evening - she thinks - and her daily torture sessions should be over until morning. Kyra is accustomed to spending all night curled up in her cell, falling asleep to be tormented by Law until the Proeliators wake her in the morning via a bucket of icy water dumped on her person. After the wake-up call comes the scraps from the shaman's table, followed by the march to the chamber set aside strictly for her disciplining. Merrick is always waiting for her there, joined by either the shaman or Lihla, depending on who was present the day before. Merrick himself does the majority of the dirty work - whether because he enjoys it the most or because the other two monsters have developed weak stomachs when their victims refuse to scream is up for debate.

Kyra wonders morbidly, as she often does when she lets her thoughts stray, if her mother screamed when her face was peeled off.

In short order she finds herself dragged up the dungeon steps into the imposing foyer of the shaman's home. She has not been in this part of the house since her disastrous homecoming three months ago. The marble doors are thrown open as Kyra is forced across the room, the rays of the setting sun pouring in and blinding her light-deprived eyes. Blinking, her face soaking up the warmth once she is led outside, the battered woman is vaguely surprised to see the vast crowd stretched out before her. The city center is packed with people of all the classes, the _sordes_ mixed in with the elite, rich with poor, all citizens mashed together in front of the shaman's home. The people of Veneficus stand as one mass for possibly the first time in the island-city's history, no longer separated by walls or rank.

And all of them are staring in silence at the raised platform in the middle of Veneficus' circular city center, upon which Merrick waits with the shaman, Lihla... and a little boy who looks to be no older than ten, who is holding Lihla's hand and bawling for his mother.

The crowd parts like water for Kyra and her Proeliator escorts, murmurs breaking out in her wake. A terrible feeling of foreboding wells up in her gut; if a certain pirate captain had not removed her heart, it would be pounding wildly against her ribcage. Kyra wonders if Law is watching it right now, if he is curious as to why her heart rate has suddenly sped up exponentially. But she cannot ponder this long; she must instead focus on the pressing question of just what the hell is going on. Why has the shaman so stupidly brought her outside? Without his hundreds of wards, outside of his magic-sapping walls, Kyra can already feel her magic swelling in power. It is akin to the feeling of continuous shots of adrenaline, and she feels as though she could fly with her power surging through her veins again. Why would her tormentors give her the chance to regain her dangerous strength? And why is that boy holding Lihla's hand?

Her magic may be growing stronger by the second, but Kyra still stumbles while climbing the stairs of the newly-built platform to stand weakly before the terrifying trio. The Imperator releases her arm and bows at the waist to his master before backing up to stand on the edge of the stage. The other Proeliators spread out around the structure, their impassive faces turned to the crowd and their arms crossed over their chests. The people of Veneficus go silent once again, and all is quiet but for the boy's continued pleas.

After a dramatic pause, the shaman steps forward and begins to speak in the ancient tongue. His magically enhanced voice blasts over the crowd, soaring into the air as he raises his arms high overhead. Kyra's mind automatically translates his words. All the while her eyes remain fixed on the crying boy.

"Ego , Veneratio Simultas of Veneficus , hic precor meus vox ut Rector of Totus constrictum illa duos liberi of Vox una ut unus."

_I, the Honored Shaman of Veneficus, hereby invoke my right as Leader of All to bind these two children of the Power together as one._

The pompous old toad is trying to force a binding yet again, this time outside in the hopes that the island's natural magics will seal a bond. Stupid fool; it doesn't matter what he does, Kyra is already bound to Law. He will never be able to bind her to Merrick, no matter how many times he tries or where he chooses to do so.

"Permissum suum animus fio unus , suum fatum iunctus ex hic ut infinitio."

_Let their souls become one, their destinies joined from here to eternity._

"Ut placo filiolus , EGO dedi is insons insontis parvulus ut vitualamen."

_To appease the gods, I offer this innocent child as sacrifice._

Oh, shit. The damn shaman is actually planning on using a blood sacrifice to force the fucking bond. The blood of an innocent has enormous value, and apparently the old man has finally grown desperate enough to break the most sacred laws of Veneficus by sacrificing an innocent for his own gain.

"Suus sanctimonia vadum consecro iugum illae everto quod suus materia."

_His purity shall sanctify the union of this demon and her mate._

No. It won't. All it will achieve is the senseless death of this poor little boy, because blood sacrifice or not, there can only be one soul-bond for a person. Kyra has hers. As long as Law is alive, she will never be able to form a soul-bond with another. If the shaman goes through with this, if he kills this boy, it will have been for nothing. The kid will die and nothing will change. No manner of forbidden ceremonies will ever have any effect.

The shaman reaches inside one sleeve of his pure white robe and withdraws a bone-handled dagger. He steps towards the child, who is now trying desperately to tear his hand from Lihla's iron grip, sobbing hysterically, bleating and bawling for help that will never come. The people make no move to storm the stage, not even a twitch to protest the boy's murder. Wherever his mother might be, she does not dash forward to save the life of her child, nor does she scream out in agonized protest. This boy's family is going to stand out in that crowd and watch him die.

Rage boils Kyra's blood at this realization. What kind of parent abandons their offspring to a madman's control? What kind of person can stand there, silent and unconcerned, as an old fool murders a child in cold blood for his own personal gain? These people are pathetic, no better than the shaman who rules over them. This city-island is nothing but a blight upon the earth.

"Ut Ego decretum, sic is vadum exsisto!" The shaman cries, raising the dagger over his head in preparation for the killing blow.

_As I degree, so it shall be!_

The boy is screaming.

No.

The boy is going to die.

_No._

The boy is going to die, and no one is going to lift a finger to help him.

**_NO!_**

Kyra flings herself across the platform in an instant, bowling Lihla over and snatching the child up in her arms as the knife descends. The ceremonial blade slices through her shoulder like butter, stabbing in and coming out again on the other side - scant inches to the left of the boy's face. Power explodes out of her, black magic expanding in a solid dome that throws everyone save herself and her shrieking cargo from the stage. The dagger disintegrates, the hole in her body healing in an instant as she huddles down and hugs the terrified waif to her chest.

Kyra's magic whips around them inside the protective sphere, little fingers of shadow lightly stroking her face and hair as she trembles. Three months she has waited for this day. Three months of torment as her magic broke down the fundamental make-up of the shaman's countless wards bit by bit, altering the genetic code of Kyra's blood so that the blood used in the wards no longer matches her own. Now, at last, she is complete again.

And there are three people close at hand who very much need killing.

But first she must get this kid to safety, lest the shaman try to complete this pointless ceremony. Rubbing a hand on the boy's back in an effort to calm him, Kyra runs on shaky legs to the edge of the stage and jumps down. Her limbs, weakened by torture and severe starvation, instantly buckle under her weight. She falls hard on her side and lies there for a moment, winded and hurting, her shield still encased securely about her and her arms wrapped just as tightly around the terrified boy. He clings to her, his face pressed into the fabric of her ragged smock over the empty space where her heart should be, soaking the cloth with his tears.

All around them is chaos. The crowd, panicked at the sight of their leader flung carelessly through the air by the proclaimed demon, runs in every direction in their efforts to get away, pushing and shoving like frightened beasts. The Imperator and his Proeliator minions hurl burning balls of magic against Kyra's shield. They reflect off its surface and shower upon the citizens, killing handfuls of them at a time. Merrick has vanished, disappearing into the rabble of people.

The shaman and his bitch daughter march towards her, dangerous and powerful and just begging her to slaughter them.

But there is the boy to consider.

_Shit._

_"Sordes_ vermin!" Lihla screams, perfect blonde hair tousled from her tumble off the platform. Kyra ignores her, pulling her magic in tight to her skin and staggering into the chaotic mob. She must find somewhere to dump the child. It would not do to put him in danger by engaging her foes while holding him in her arms. She plows a path through the frantic crowd, her powers easily relocating anyone in her way as she tries to put some distance between herself and the threat posed by her former captors.

Wait, what the hell is she doing? Kyra stops abruptly, cursing her own stupidity. Her magic is once more free to follow her orders, and they will get a hell of a lot further if she teleports than they will running in her condition. She can pop to the edges of the island, leave the kid, and come back to butcher the shaman and the harpy.

Having so decided, the Demon Witch yanks her magic inward and teleports with the child.

Right into Trafalgar Law's lap, knocking his chair to the floor of his submarine's galley and sending all three of them sprawling.

_Double shit._

Kyra cushions the child's body with her own, which in turn crushes the Dark Doctor's lanky frame into the iron of his vessel's floor. She is quick to jump off of him, staggering sideways into the table due to her legs strenuously protesting such harsh treatment in their present state. Righting herself, the starved and exhausted mage backs into the nearest corner as she registers all the eyes that are fixed on her and her cargo. The crew has obviously gathered for a meal; everyone is sitting around the table, plates of food in front of them and mugs of some dubious substance in most of their hands. No one is moving, some of the men having frozen with forks halfway to their mouths as they stare at her in shocked silence. The boy is still crying, huge gulping sobs that only a child is capable of.

Seeing motion from the corner of her eye, Kyra's full attention snaps to Law as he picks himself up off the floor, dusting imaginary dirt from his clothing and readjusting his hat. He looks at her, and the young woman cannot control the flinch that jolts through her at the fire in his normally cold grey eyes. She hugs the child protectively, waiting for Law's reaction, terrified of what he might do or say.

After a long, tense, gut-wrenching moment where the Surgeon of Death simply stares at her, the captain of the Heart Pirates lets a spine-chilling smirk curve his lips. The expression dominates his face until he looks quite mad, a cross between the sadistic genius he always is and a little boy who has just been told that all his deepest wishes have come true. Law flows across the floor towards her, not seeming the least bit perturbed when Kyra cringes away from him and presses herself hard against the wall, or how she flinches again when he reaches out and buries his fingers in her hair. Again he gives her a look that is so full of heat it practically scorches her, freakishly ecstatic smirk firmly in place.

"Well, well, well," Law drawls, sounding horrifyingly pleased. "Welcome back, _my_ magician."

_Triple shit._

* * *

><p>His woman is pressing herself into the wall of his galley like a trapped animal, her arms wrapped tightly around the crying boy in her arms. Kyra is filthy, her skin dotted with old blood stains and smeared with dirt, her black locks a tangled mess. The smock she wears has seen better days. She is paper-white, and so thin the bones of her face jut out unattractively.<p>

Law thinks her the most beautiful creature he has ever seen.

She is trembling under his hand, shaking as though chilled to the core. Her eyes have slammed closed, and the pirate captain watches as she hugs the kid in her arms closer. Kyra's lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them, her mouth working for a moment as she tries to say something. Law plants his free hand on the wall beside her head and leans in until their noses brush, ignoring the boy she holds, ignoring his watching crew. He is so close to his magician that in the absolute silence of the galley he can hear the absence of her heartbeat.

"Please," she croaks, her voice the metallic rasp of one who has not exercised their vocal cords for long periods of time. "Don't hurt him. The child. Please."

Were it possible for Law to smirk wider, he would be doing so now. The boy? Who gives a damn? He has no interest whatsoever in the sobbing brat. He leans away slightly, cocking his head to the side and regarding his magician for a long moment before releasing her hair and taking a measured step back.

"Bepo."

The bear is instantly at his side, fur standing on end and ears laid flat against his head.

"Take the boy."

The hulking first mate moves to do just that, only to be rebuffed by a magical shield that immediately pops into existence. It passes over Law as though he is not there, pushing Bepo away so that it encompasses the three humans. Kyra's shaking has intensified, and she has shifted slightly so that the boy is between her and the corner - presumably safe from a sudden snatching.

"Don't touch him," she rasps out, opening eyes black as tar. Law quirks an eyebrow at her, not impressed in the least. He steps back up to her and slips his hands under her arms, getting a good grip on the kid before giving him a sharp tug. The boy wails louder as he is jerked from Kyra's arms, her weak limbs no match for the wiry strength of the Surgeon of Death. Law backs out of the shield and passes the brat off to Bepo, grabbing Kyra's wrist when she attempts to go past him. The girl is barely capable of remaining on her feet, her wrist so thin that the surgeon is nearly surprised that her bones don't simply snap under the pressure of his restraining fingers. He wraps a steadying arm around her tiny waist as an added precaution when she wobbles dangerously, free hand reaching for the kid now tucked under one of Bepo's arms.

"Bepo, take the child to Kyra's old room," Law orders quietly. "Take some food with you. You will stay with him until I say otherwise."

"Yes, Captain."

Kyra's shield collapses as she fights weakly against Law's hold, trying in vain to reach out as Bepo exits the galley with a large plate of food and the bawling brat. The rest of the crew is watching silently from their seats at the table, some of them staring at Kyra's extremely malnourished body while others examine their captain for a sign of what he plans to do next. He ignores everyone, his grey eyes seeking out Neil and pinning him in place.

"Make some soup," he commands, bending slightly and sweeping his magician up in his arms. "Nothing too heavy, her body will reject it. Bring the largest bowl you can fill of it to the infirmary once it's done."

Neil nods dumbly as he rises from his seat, staring warily at the woman who has gone still in his captain's embrace. Law can feel the tremors wracking Kyra's body as he turns away from his crew and strolls out of the galley, holding her tightly against his chest and savoring the experience. She is real. This is not a shared dream. She is real, and she is back on his sub, and she is in his arms.

The Dark Doctor is very, _very_ pleased.

He sets his cargo on one of the infirmary beds and is about to step away to get an IV line set up when shaky fingers latch onto the fabric of his hoodie. Bloodshot blue eyes stare up at him, the skin around them bruised from lack of sleep and proper nutrients. Kyra's lips move as she whispers something, the words jumbling into an unintelligible mutter. Law bends down and places his ear near her mouth as she repeats herself.

"Where is it?"

He knows immediately what she is talking about. Trafalga straightens up and smirks down at her, laying one hand flat against her empty chest. "It's safe. I assure you, I'm taking very good care of it."

Kyra stares up at him for a long moment, eyes flittering across his face as though looking for answers to unasked questions. Whatever she finds is apparently not pleasing, for she closes them and clenches her fist in his hoodie for just a second before releasing it and letting her arm fall. She says nothing else as Law moves away and gathers the materials he will need to correct the atrocious state of her health. It is clear that the girl has been starved, and he has been aware for some time that the continuous beatings bestowed upon her by her captors were taking their toll despite being healed by her magic. She has dropped a dangerous amount of weight in the months of their separation. Her muscles have likely begun to atrophy as well, and the strength of her bones has probably been negatively affected. Getting her back into a reasonably healthy condition is going to be something of a chore, especially since Law doubts she has given up her desire for death. She is not going to make this easy for anyone, but that is alright: he enjoys a challenge.

His magician doesn't move again until he slides the IV needle into a vein in her arm. She jolts on the bed, her eyes flying open and the opposite hand swooping towards the needle. Law quickly grabs her wrist, restraining her from yanking the tip out as she so obviously wants to do. He gives her a squeeze and levels a stern look at her.

"Do not think that I will hesitate to strap you to this bed," he warns her quietly, using his free hand to tape the IV line in place. Once it is secured his fingers dance up her arm, over her shoulder to wrap lightly around her neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive spot just under her jaw on the left side. She shudders violently, wild eyes fixed on the needle until his fingers move enough to grasp her chin and redirect her attention to him. "It will not hurt you. You will not touch it. Do you understand?"

Her sea-blue eyes are incredibly dull, not at all the sparking orbs of three months prior when she leapt to protect her precious cousin from Law's death threat. She doesn't fight him as he half-expects her to; her arm goes limp in his hold and she turns her head away, staring at the far wall. The surgeon moves his fingers back to her throat, stroking softly as he releases Kyra's wrist and lifts the hem of her ragged smock. She is bare under it, but he is more interested in the way every one of her ribs is pressing against her skin as though trying to come through. Her belly is practically nonexistent, so sunken in that it appears someone has hollowed out the area below her ribcage. Law is at least pleased to note that she is not swollen with fluid, as sometimes happens with starvation victims.

Yes, it's going to take a _lot_ of work to get his magician back in tiptop shape again.

The Supernova hears a knock on the door of the infirmary and pulls the smock down again before bidding Neil to enter. The cook hurries over with a large glass of some bright green substance, which he hands to Law.

"Protein shake, Captain," he explains in a rush, already walking quickly back out the door. "I'll be back as soon as the soup's ready."

Law watches his back until the door closes behind him, at which time he turns his attention back to the girl in front of him. She has also refocused on him - or more accurately, on the glass he holds in one hand. Her face is expressionless, but the pirate captain would bet a substantial amount of money that Kyra is about to start being difficult.

It won't make any difference. She will drink every last drop of this green goop if he has to plug her nose and pour it down her throat.

Actually, force-feeding her might be entertaining... if he does it a little... _differently._

"Are you going to drink this like a good little girl, my magician?" He is sure to make his voice as condescending as possible, banking on pissing her off by treating her like the child she so obviously wishes she wasn't. Now that he's had his idea, Law wants to try it. It won't do for Kyra to suddenly decide to cooperate and spoil his fun.

She wraps her wasted arms around herself and turns completely on her side, back facing him, shaking again. She doesn't answer his question. Law takes this as a refusal and brings the drink to his own lips so that he can take a sip. Thankfully, the stuff isn't as disgusting as it looks; the flavor of mint is heavy on his tongue, along with what might possibly be kiwi and lime. A strange combination, but far from unpleasant. The surgeon holds the liquid in his mouth as he walks around the bed on which his patient lies, fisting a hand in her hair and turning her head so that it faces the ceiling. Blue eyes watch him distrustfully, and Law gives his magician a close-lipped simle before he seals his mouth over hers, transferring the protein shake to her in the process.

Kyra gasps sharply, probably from surprise, and promptly begins to choke.

Law pulls away so that the girl can weakly prop herself on her elbows, twisting away from him and coughing in an attempt to clear her lungs of however much of the shake she just inhaled. He is slightly annoyed that with the taste of the drink in his mouth he is unable to pick up the unique flavor he has been sampling in his dreams, but brushes this aside. Kyra is here now, and as he has absolutely no plans to let her leave again - _ever_ - he will easily have access to her whenever he pleases.

"Why... why won't you just... _stop?"_ she whispers once she finishes clearing her throat, collapsing back on the bed Law knows she hates and looking absolutely exhausted. "Why won't you just let me die, you fucking bastard? What do you want from me?"

He traces her quivering lower lip, smirking when she tries to flinch away from his touch, lowering his head again to mouth at the flesh of her throat. What does Law want from her? An excellent question for his magician to ask. He could tell her he wants her magic backing his quest for One Piece. He could tell her he wants her personal scent cutting through the odors on the sub. He could say that he wants her sharp wit matched with his own, breaking up the monotony of long hauls at sea. He could claim he wants the sweetness of her blood and skin and mouth within easy reach. He might even confess that he wants her undying loyalty, freely given to him and no other, so strong that she would kill everything in her path to return to him if ever they became separated again.

Instead Trafalgar Law whispers a single word into her neck.

_"Everything."_

"I don't have anything left to give!" Kyra barks in reply, twitching under his lips and trying to sit up. Law pushes her down with one hand as the other carefully keeps the shake from spilling. He climbs up on the bed with her and straddles her bony hips. She lashes out at him with her fists, her blows as weak as swats from a newborn kitten. "I've lost everything! My mother! My freedom! My fucking heart! I don't even have a reason to live anymore! What can I have that you would possibly want, you psycho? Isn't it bad enough that I'm _soul-bonded_ with you for the rest of my life? That you've cut my fucking heart out of my chest? What _more_ could you _possibly fucking want from me?"_

Tears are rolling down his magician's face, and Law has no compunctions against licking them off as best he can while Kyra tries her damnedest to avoid him. Her painfully thin body wiggles beneath him, her hips bucking upwards as she tries to unseat him. He grins at her, pressing his own hips down to meet hers, grinding against her and leaving no doubt as to what exactly it might be that he wants. She freezes, staring up at him with eyes fully dilated by instant terror.

"It seems to me, my dear magician," the Dark Doctor purrs softly against her cheek, setting the protein drink on a wheeled medical tray within arm's reach so that both his hands are free, "that at least part of the answer you want is painfully obvious. Trust me when I say that you have _plenty_ left to give me. Perhaps I will even return the favor by providing you with another reason to live, hmm?"

He takes her slack lip between his teeth, holding her gaze as he bites down hard enough to draw blood, letting his own flutter half closed as the sweet liquid drowns his taste buds. Law kisses the girl in earnest, forcing his tongue between her jaws and exploring her warm mouth as his hands move to grip her sides roughly. That touch seems to galvanize Kyra, as she jolts and jerks her head away, shaking hands coming up to her captain's chest as a pathetic barrier.

"No," she rasps breathlessly, the delicious fear in her voice and eyes doing nothing to calm the fires in Law's veins. "Don't. Please don't. Not this too. Please, I can't -"

"Shhh," he hushes her, darting back down to take a swipe at her bleeding lip. "Relax. You're much too thin for the activities I have in mind. Neil will have to put some meat on your bones before we have our fun. There's no rush now. We have all the time in the world."

Not that Law has any intention of waiting any longer than absolutely necessary, but she doesn't have to know that.

"I won't stay here," his magician whimpers pitifully as his fingers stroke up and down her sides over the cheap fabric of the smock she wears. "I won't stay here while my mother's killer is still alive. I won't stay here and play your bitch like my magic wants when the shaman and his fucking daughter still breathe. I'll leave. I'm going to kill them. I -"

"You will not step foot off of this sub without me by your side," Law interrupts smoothly, digging his fingertips into her pasty white skin. "You will stay here until I say differently. You will share my room, you will share my bed, and - trust me on this one - you _will_ enjoy it."

Kyra whips her head back towards him, her eyes wet and wild as her magic explodes out of her skin.

"I won't!" she screams hoarsely, shoving weakly at his chest. "I won't be your whore! I won't let you take that away from me too! Don't you get it, you stupid fool? None of this is real! None of what you're feeling is real! It's all just a forced reaction because of the fucking soul-bond! It's just a goddamn illusion! I'd rather die than let you fuck me! I'll kill you before that happens!"

Things are breaking all over his infirmary. The mattresses on the other beds are ripped to shreds, stuffing flying everywhere. The glass fronts of his cabinets shatter, as do the glass bottles within. The protein shake explodes, splashing green liqiud everywhere. Law ignores it all, smirking down at his magician.

"And how do you plan to accomplish that, I wonder? Do you really think you're strong enough to kill me without the aid of your powers when you can't even push me away?" He laughs at her, amused by her pointless rebellion, not caring in the least for her aversion to him. "Pirates aren't known to take 'no' for an answer, Kyra. I don't care about this soul-bond. Unless it was formed back at that slave auction, it has nothing to do with me."

He cocks his head to the side as a wonderfully amusing thought comes to him. Laughing softly, the Surgeon of Death regards his woman with bedroom eyes and a sly smile.

"I have to wonder: are you really trying to convince _me_ that what _I_ feel isn't real? Or are you actually just trying to convince _yourself_ that whatever you might feel for me is just a compulsion forced on you by this bond of ours? Perhaps, my dear, something other than the physical presence of your heart on my ship brought you back here tonight. Maybe you should simply stop fighting yourself. If you let go of your stubborn refusal to let yourself _want me_, perhaps you would find that you do indeed have something to live for."

He tastes her lips one more time, lifts himself off of her and casually sidesteps the destruction of his infirmary on his way to the door.

"I am going to check on what is delaying the delivery of your soup. When I return, I expect my med bay to be restored to its proper condition. Do not remove the IV from your arm. Do not get up from that bed. I will transfer you to my room after you have eaten your soup. You will bathe, then sleep. You can tell me why you brought a brat here with you in the morning. I will be back shortly."

Law closes the heavy door behind him and leans his back against it, a twisted grin dominating his facial features when he hears the sound of his magician sobbing. He will not be sleeping tonight; he will allow the girl her privacy in the dreamscape to give her a little extra time to process everything. He will assign Bepo to babysit the brat until something can be done about him, and _then_ he will devote his time to systematically breaking down all of his magician's resistance. By the time Kyra is healthy enough for strenuous physical activity, Law has every intention of having her completely infatuated with him.

After all, he is Trafalgar Law: Surgeon of Death, Supernova super-rookie, and notorious ladies man. How hard can this be?

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra is my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Law runs his tongue up his magician's throat, feathering his fingers over the bare skin of her stomach. She twitches against him, trying to move away and pressing herself deeper into the snow as he takes the lobe of her ear between his teeth. He has recently discovered the ability to alter the clothing Kyra wears in their shared dreams, and he is taking full advantage of that tonight by having her don a midriff-baring halter top that hugs her curves and leaves a good portion of her lower back exposed. The girl is extremely self-conscious about the multitude of scars decorating her torso, though the Surgeon of Death finds them fascinating. So many life-threatening injuries rained down upon this slip of a woman; it's amazing that she hasn't died already.<p>

The pirate's wandering digits pause at a deep gash just under her rib cage, tapping out a nonsense rhythm and shifting to watch her delicious blood coat his fingers. Kyra's breath hitches and she shoves at him, attempting to escape to the side. He shushes her gently, free hand rubbing soothingly against her cold arm.

"Just relax," he breathes into her ear, nose buried in her hair. "It won't hurt as much if you stop fighting me, my magician."

Law grins at how his words sound, amused at the scenarios that immediately come to mind. The dreamscape shifts around them: the moonlit field of snow dissolves into a dark room with some unfixed light point rotating somewhere over their heads. The bed is large, the sheets of fine-quality satin. The blackness of the fabric is a perfect contrast to Kyra's milk-white skin, with her terrified eyes darting around like trapped animals in the cages of her optical sockets. Law knows that she hates her lack of control in these dreams, hates that he has all the power, hates that she cannot wake up until he allows it. If the surgeon so wishes it, Kyra could spend an entire dream frozen, completely without the ability to move as he plays with her. On nights when the Dark Doctor wants to punish his wayward crew member for her three months unauthorized furlough, this comes in handy - although he has yet to steal her voice from her. Listening to her cries when she is unable to muffle them is very entertaining.

Two weeks his magician has been back on his sub. During the day she follows him like an obedient ghost, hardly speaking a word unless it's directed at Aaron, the timid little brat she brought back with her. The kid is weirdly attached to Kyra, considering he was to be a sacrifice on her account. Aside from the boy, Kyra shows no sign of acknowledgement on the few occasions the braver of his men try to speak to her. Bepo avoids her - Law thinks his first mate is still upset about the hearth rug threat - and Jambarl has developed the habit of looming menacingly around her whenever she is not shut up in the infirmary or his captain's quarters. She ignores it all. Sachi and Penguin have tentatively tried to draw her into harmless conversations with no success. Neil hisses filth at her at every opportunity while his captain turns a purposely deaf ear. No one but Law himself and the kid manages to drag a reaction out of her.

The stubborn wench barely eats, initially refused to sleep until forcefully sedated, and watches everything through dull blue eyes that irritate the hell out of the Surgeon of Death. He takes out his frustration in these dreams, adding to her extensive collection of scars a little more each night. Kyra is always healed before morning, not even blood on the sheets to give proof to what he does to her. The only evidence is the new mark, hidden from the others by her clothing.

Law smiles down at his magician, bringing his bloody fingers to his mouth and lapping off the sweet crimson liquid. He then lowers his still wet digits to the skin right over her breastbone, tracing his favorite addition: a tattoo of his Jolly Roger, grinning out of Kyra's chest all to see. It had been quite the successful experiment to see if a tattoo given in the dreamscape would carry over into reality. The twisted doctor is well pleased with the results, very much approving of that black smile on his woman.

There is no pulse underneath his hand, which only widens Law's smirk while Kyra squirms beneath him. Her heart is safe, somewhere she will never find it no matter how hard she tries. When she initially joined his crew, Law told Bepo to give her a thorough tour of every room but the crew's quarters and his own for a reason. His little hiding place will remain a secret from her, Kyra's heart accessible only to him. It will come to no harm, so she really has nothing to complain about. It's probably safer with him than in her, as she has a habit of landing herself in dangerous situations.

"What would your dearly departed mother say now, Kyra?" he hisses, leaning down to nip at her chin. "What would she say to know her precious daughter is bonded to pirate scum? That you crave my touch, whether you admit it or not? That your precious magic chose someone like me as your soulmate? Do you think she would still be so proud of you now, my little monster? Would she still see you as her darling daughter, or would she have handed you over to the shaman just as fast as your cousin did?"

It has become a favorite pastime, needling Kyra about her family. Some nights he conjures images of the young man for whom she left him, makes her watch as he cuts her cousin into pieces. Other dreams Law simply talks about his magician's dead mother. On really good nights, when he feels particularly vindictive, he does both.

He likes to bring the spark back to her eyes, and the fastest way to do that is to make her extremely angry.

Right on cue, the shifting light in the room hits Kyra's face, highlighting the murderous look she is giving him and revealing the rage in her blue orbs. Her hands strike out at him, one barely missing his cheek in the poor lighting while the other connects hard with his bare chest. Law chuckles lowly, shifting so that he straddles her thighs and grabbing one flailing hand as she swings at him again. He uses his hold to pull her up, wrapping his arms around her torso and drawing her against him. Tattooed fingers trace the brand on her back, feeling the way she twitches and shivers at his touch. The notorious pirate is well-versed in the human body, both from sex and from his side-occupation as a surgeon. As much as she will deny it, as much as she might hate herself for it, Kyra is fast becoming addicted to skin-on-skin contact with Law - even when that contact brings pain. The much-loathed soul-bond is literally pushing her into his arms, as shown by how docilely she lies against his chest when she could probably pull out of his rather loose grasp. Every day she fights just a little less.

Law estimates that it won't be very much longer before Kyra is the one initiating contact, and when that happens... well. Let's just say he hopes it occurs sooner rather than later.

"I hate you," Kyra whispers into his pectoral muscles, her breath warm against his skin. "I _hate_ you. _I hate you_."

He smiles to himself, rotating his hands so that he can bunch them in the ends of her hair and tilt her head back. He takes her mouth in a rough kiss, holding her still until she is struggling for air. Law is laughing when he pulls away, massaging the girl's scalp with nimble fingers. He brushes his lips over her closed eyelids, lets his tongue taste the sweat at her temples, inhales the lavender-steel-woman smell he has come to crave.

"You say that so often," he murmurs, tightening his hold until Kyra lets out a pained gasp before rubbing the hurt away. "I think perhaps you protest just a little too much. Like reverse psychology on yourself: maybe if you say that you hate me enough times, you might even begin to believe it. A novel idea."

The pirate hears his magician's teeth snap together and laughs again, moving back a little so that he can leer at her.

"Go ahead," Law purrs tauntingly, intentionally cocking his head at such an angle that his throat is bared to her. "Bite me. You want to, don't you Kyra? Then go ahead: do it."

He waits for a moment, but as he expected, his magician has locked her jaws probably to the point of pain and has her eyes screwed shut. She has only bitten him once, that first night back on the sub after Law sedated her and they were in the dreamscape. He had reached down to touch her face and ended up with her teeth buried in his hand. Kyra had frozen the second she broke his skin, unmoving with the taste of his blood in her mouth until the surgeon had pulled his hand free. The look on her face had been one of mingled shock... and extreme pleasure. Law had known immediately that his blood must be just as tasty to the girl as hers is to him. Another side effect of this bond they share.

Sometimes he will give himself a shallow cut within the dreams, just to tempt her with it. She has yet to take the bait, but Law is confident that it is only a matter of time.

For the moment, the sadistic Supernova opts to simply lay his head against Kyra's collarbone with a sigh, enjoying the shiver that goes through her at the feel of his breath against her skin. So responsive. So stubborn. So... his tongue darts out for a taste... _addictive. _To distract himself from the ever-present drug in his arms, Law starts to talk again.

"Gable informed me that we should reach the next island within a week. I am considering the possibility of taking your little pet onshore with us. I'm curious to see if he will be so quick to run into your arms after watching you slaughter whoever we happen to meet. What do you think?"

Kyra shrinks weakly against his hold, pressing cold little hands against his chest as her head shakes frantically from side to side.

"He's just a kid," she whispers, eyes still shut tight. "Just a little boy. Don't you dare make him watch that. Kids shouldn't... see shit like that."

Law hums thoughtfully, sliding his chin up and down the length of her throat. "I am a pirate, Kyra, not a nursemaid."

"Then let me take him back! Five fucking seconds and I'll be right back here again! You've got my fucking heart locked up on the damn sub, Law, do you really think I'm going to go anywhere without it?" She is coming out of her shell again, adamant in her desperation for the boy's safety. As if they haven't had this conversation a hundred times already. As if her captain is foolhardy enough to risk taking her at her word.

"Where the hell would I go anyway, you paranoid bastard? Do you think I'll stay on Veneficus if I take Aaron back? Are you fucking stupid? The only reason I went back in the first place was for my mother, and - and obviously t-that's not a problem anymore." Her voice is quivering by the end, her chest heaving slightly for a moment before she slips her iron control back into place and goes quiet again. Law is grinning, pleased with her reaction. He is working on pushing her to cry. He believes that if she finally loses that control of hers and weeps, it will be the start of a period during which he can mold her. She needs to let go of her dead mother. He will drive her to that conclusion in whatever way possible, even keeping a kid as a virtual hostage on his sub.

Hey, like he said: he's a pirate. Such a heartless course of action is second nature to him, especially when the boy's well-being personally means less than nothing.

The cruel seafarer slides his hands down Kyra's sides, lingering over the sensitive points right under her rib cage on both sides. She trembles against him, her breath whooshing out to warm his skin as Law rubs his thumbs into those spots that force her to react. He watches as she yanks her own hands away from him, fisting them in the bed-sheets in a hopeless attempt to keep from reaching out to the Heart Pirate captain.

"Why do you keep doing this?" his stubborn magician hisses, trying desperately to hold her body still when it's clear all she wants to do is press closer. "Why do you play with me in these fucking dreams? I'm not a goddamn toy, you bastard! Fuck, you almost got yourself killed yesterday during that fight with those idiots because you're too busy gawking at me during the day to fucking pay attention! Maybe I should have tried harder just to let their captain chop your damn head off."

This is true: since Kyra's return to his sub, Law has found himself rather distracted by her at the worst of times. If not for the interference of her magic, the Surgeon of Death might have found himself dead on several occasions these past couple of weeks. To be fair, he has an inkling that this soul-bond and Kyra's continued refusal to give in to it has more than a little to do with his moments of dangerous preoccupation. The weakling yesterday should never have gotten close enough to almost take his head off, but there's just something... hypnotic about watching his magician tear their enemies to pieces with her bare hands.

And it's somewhat adorable that Kyra is lecturing him on being more careful while trying to convince them both of how much she despises him. Especially since Bepo privately told Law right after the fight ended that she smelled absolutely terrified when she had turned and seen that rival pirate seconds away from killing him. She has yet to realize that she isn't fooling anyone with her little rebellion. The whole crew is aware of the situation, having been told by their captain but given strict orders not to say anything about it to their resident witch. Bepo can both smell and sense just how much she wants Law at every second of every day - which, now that Law thinks about it, might have something to do with why the overgrown fuzzball is avoiding Kyra as much as possible.

The Surgeon of Death brushes these thoughts aside and refocuses on the here and now, alone in his mind with his delectable magician in his arms. He will worry about his obsession when they wake up; for now he wants to indulge. He leans into her, pressing her back down into the mattress and swallowing her protests in a searing kiss. His Kyra tastes so damn sweet. Law could spend all day sampling her flavor, thoroughly enjoying the way she fights him at every opportunity. Though the Demon Witch's pigheadedness is sometimes extremely frustrating, Law is quite sure he wouldn't be half so interested in her if she threw herself at him the way other women do. The fight is half the fun.

And the best part is: Kyra can't bite him to make the kisses stop, because she's terrified of her reaction to the flavor of his blood.

"Shhh," he whispers against her cheek after Kyra tears her head to the side and separates their lips. "Just relax..."

"Stop fucking molesting me and I might be able to!" she snaps in retort, sounding close to tears again. "Why can't you just leave me alone for one damn night? Go find a whore or something and stop pawing at me!"

Law actually pauses at that, a frown tugging at his lips. "Why would I bother paying for a whore when you are here?"

Kyra seems to wilt, going limp against the sheets and closing her eyes again. The pirate studies her face for a long moment, an idea niggling at the back of his mind. Eventually he shifts off of her to lie on the bed, gathering his magician close so that her back is pressed into his chest and he has easy access to her hair. She is predictably tense in his arms, trembling with the effort not to relax. Law smiles to himself at the sheer force of will wrapped up in such a frail frame.

He wonders what her reaction is going to be when he takes her advice.

He's sure it will be entertaining.

* * *

><p>A week later finds Kyra sitting stoically at the table in Law's galley, surrounded by crewmates with her unwanted captain nowhere in sight. Today has been hell for all of them. The island they've docked at is like something out of a horror story. The place is simply one giant volcano, with a single village built at its base. The explosive mountain is even now shooting flaming blobs of magma into the air, with lava flowing freely down its sides. Remarkably, the little village is like a negatively charged magnet in regards to the fiery liquid; the flow of molten rock comes within a mile of the collection of homes and shops before suddenly splitting, making a narrow V the rest of the way to the ocean. The navigator had a hell of a time earlier trying to figure out where to dock. The waters around the island are hot enough to bubble, making the air within the metal submersible like the inside of a sauna. Everyone is dripping with sweat, Bepo having stripped from his jumpsuit for fear of a heat stroke.<p>

Kyra had briefly considered throwing up a shield around the sub to get rid of the unbearable heat, but Law had told her before he left not to do so. She will have to suffer with the rest of the crew until the captain returns. It is late in the evening, and the boy - Aaron - has already been put to bed by his canine nursemaid. No one else feels comfortable enough to sleep in this heat. The whole crew is crowded into the galley, sitting around drinking and talking while they wait for Law to get back so Kyra can provide them all with some relief.

Someone pokes her sharply in the side. Turning her head, the sweaty sorceress pins the brute of a cook in place with a blood-chilling glare. "Don't touch me."

Neil has the sense to look afraid for a second before his customary sneer returns. He leans close to her, putting his face near her own so that she can smell his body odor. She can feel the tension in the room suddenly shoot through the roof as the rest of the crew sees what their chef is doing. Apparently they have yet to forget the spectacle of watching Kyra drive a fork through the man's chest right before she beat the shit out of him. The cook in question, sadly enough, seems to have recovered from his previous fear of the woman whose personal bubble he is now thoroughly invading.

"So how jealous are you, witch?" Neil leers, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Kyra, having no idea what he is referring to, raises an eyebrow in response. The nasty smirk grows.

"Haven't you figured it out yet? Where do you think Captain's going, you dumb bitch? Did you really think he'd put up with all your teasing forever? Nah, Captain's decided to remedy that little situation." Here the pirate chef chuckles, giving Kyra a lingering once-over that has her magic jumping to peel his skin from his bones. "Guess Captain finally got sick of you, freak."

She twitches at that last word. Freak. She's a freak. Didn't this bozo call her that right after he felt her up before? Everybody resorts to that title eventually. Kyra wouldn't be surprised if Law is no different.

But that doesn't do anything to explain what the hell Neil is blabbering on about.

"Wanna find out what it feels like to get castrated with your pants on?" she asks her tormentor in a low voice. There is a collective shudder from the crew as Neil draws back sharply, eyeing her with the previously absent wariness. "Then get to the point of your little speech, or shut the fuck up and get out of my face."

Someone makes a disappointed tsking noise from the doorway leading towards the hatch. "Making threats to my crew, Kyra? I've only been gone for a few hours."

Kyra turns her attention to the newly arrived Law, fully prepared to let him know exactly how little she gives a shit. The sight that greets her, however, has the mage's mouth snapping shut again in an instant. Law is not alone, and he has just answered Kyra's question as to what Neil had been getting at with his taunting. Hanging off of one arm, wearing a dress so revealing she might as well be nude, is a woman. With very large breasts. Who is gazing at Trafalgar Law with some serious bedroom eyes as she presses her prodigious mammaries into his side, rubbing herself against him in a classic 'I-want-you-to-fuck-me' manner.

The Surgeon of Death, meanwhile, is staring directly at Kyra.

Who suddenly finds it very difficult to breathe.

"If you could put up a shield to lessen the heat for us, Kyra, you'll be spending the night in your old room," Law tells her as he escorts the strange woman across the galley. Her magic instantly responds to the captain's orders, pushing out of her skin and expanding through the walls of the sub. The inside temperature immediately drops to a much more comfortable level; the whole crew lets out a collective sigh of relief. Bepo gives a happy cheer and shakes himself, flinging saliva everywhere to general disgust.

Kyra barely registers any of this, however. She's preoccupied by the way her magic is trying desperately to wrench itself free of her control so that it can tear Law's whore to pieces. That irritating little voice is back, whimpering in the corners of her mind as she wrestles with her own powers.

_Interloper. Bitch. Whore. Kill her!_

Kyra is not going to kill the whore.

_He is ours! Ours! She will take him from us._

Why is that a bad thing? Law gets laid, and Kyra gets a night of uninterrupted sleep. It's a win-win situation. Hell, she's pretty sure she told the man a week or so ago that it'd be great if he would just get a whore and leave her alone. This is just Law following her advice. This is good.

_He is ours! He has your heart! Only he! He is our match, and we are his. Go to him. Touch him. Go before the whore steals him away._

"Um, Kyra?"

The sorceress jerks her head up with a jolt, realizing as she does so that she has been staring at the tabletop for an unspecified amount of time. The crew has shifted, with everyone except Sachi and Penguin trying to get as far from her as possible without actually leaving the room. The two friends are standing just on the other side of the table, looking extremely uneasy. Bepo is nowhere to be seen, and Law has apparently left with his bitch.

"Are... are you okay?" Sachi asks hesitantly. Kyra stares at him, hardly processing his words.

"Fine."

"Okay... well... um, you're kind of -" Sachi gestures to her face. Kyra brushes a hand across her cheeks and pulls it away to find that her fingers are wet. She is crying.

She needs some air.

Wrapping her magic around herself, Kyra teleports to the deck and collapses in a heap. She curls up in the tightest possible ball and buries her face in her thighs, shaking as the tears begin wetting the fabric. She doesn't even know why the hell she's crying. Shouldn't she be happy? Law has apparently lost interest in her. This is a good thing. If he gets tired of her, then Kyra will eventually be able to convince him to give her damn heart back. Once that happens, surely Law won't give a shit where she goes; she'll be free to kill off the shaman and his bitch-daughter. She can go after Merrick and see how he likes it when she peels _his_ face off. Maybe if the sorceress is really lucky, she can dig up some way to completely sever this damn soul-bond.

But first she needs to figure out why seeing Law with another woman on his arm has her guts tied up in knots.

Gods, Kyra's life is such a clusterfuck.

She wants her mother. She wants to put her face in Naomi's lap and just bawl until there are no tears left. She needs to feel her mother's fingers stroking through her hair, scratching at her scalp to calm her. She needs Mama's voice telling her that everything is going to be alright, that she isn't alone, that she isn't an unlovable freak of nature destined to forever be isolated until someone wants to use her.

The shaman wants to use her.

Merrick wants to use her.

Law wants to use her and have sex with her whenever he feels like it.

Kyra's luck sucks.

Sometime later, when her tears are spent and the agony inside her chest has abated a little, the Demon Witch lies sprawled across the deck of the Heart Pirates submarine and stares at the sky. The volcano and its accompanying cloud of sulfuric ash are obscuring the stars, so Kyra is left to watch as her protective shield is covered on top with a thick layer of grey. Her magic is flittering around her, tendrils reaching out to stroke her face and arms like a parent trying to comfort a depressed child.

She doesn't move when the hatch opens somewhere behind her.

"Has my magician become spoiled? Can't sleep without me, perhaps?"

She closes her eyes and bites her lip so hard she tastes blood. The little fingers of black energy disperse into the air and vanish. The deck beneath her vibrates slightly to the beat of his footsteps as he crosses over to her and sits, immediately burying fingers in her disheveled curls. Kyra tries to ignore him, tries not to think about the way her hands have started shaking or how badly she needs to put those hands on his bare skin.

A calloused thumb swipes at the tear tracks on her cheek. Warm breath puffs against her forehead as lips press a short kiss over her left eyebrow. "Pining for me, Kyra? I'm flattered."

She can't do this anymore.

"Please don't touch me," Kyra all but whimpers, trying so hard not to press against his hand as it strokes up and down her cheek. "Please, it _hurts."_

The hand pauses, and she almost whimpers again. "What hurts? Where does it hurt?"

"Everything," she confesses. "Everywhere. Every time you're anywhere near me. It feels like I'm coming apart at the seams and I just can't _do this_ anymore. Just... just kill me or stay the fuck away from me, please. You're tired of me, right? That's what the cook said. He's right, isn't he? So it shouldn't be hard for you to kill me. Here -"

The distraught woman tilts her head back, eyes still closed, baring her throat to the Surgeon of Death.

"You've always got a scalpel on you somewhere. Just slide it across my throat. I won't struggle, I won't try to -"

Her words are abruptly cut off by a hot mouth on hers, his strong tongue forcing its way in and sweeping around like a prodding finger. The last threads of her control snap like twigs, and Kyra kisses Trafalgar Law with all the passion of a thousand stars imploding. Her hands come up to clutch at his head, tearing the fur cap off and tossing it away so she can rake her nails through his messy black hair. She kisses him like a starving man falling on an endless feast, letting out an uninhibited whine when he pulls away. Her skin is burning, her insides are burning, and she needs him so bad -

"Shh," he murmurs, his body heavy on hers, his hands under her shirt and lips on her throat. Kyra never even registered that he was moving. He has come from his whore wearing only his long lounge pants, his upper body bare for her needy hands. She feels the smoothness of his skin, the way his muscles flex as he shifts against her. He is hot to the touch, burning just like Kyra burns.

"Please," she gasps out, digging her nails into his back as though she can pull him closer simply by that hold alone. "Please, please, I need - I -"

"I know," Law interrupts, nipping at her lips again, his hands busy and those grey eyes shining in the dark.

"I know."

She doesn't remember Law picking her up to carry her back to his room. She doesn't remember his curt dismissal of the woman he brought to the sub earlier. Much of the remainder of the night is a blur to her for a long time after. Her shirt will never be worn again, torn in half for a quick removal by strong hands dotted with tattoos. There is a vague impression of her teeth in Law's arm, his blood trickling down her chin as he groans under her. She knows he tasted her at some point. She knows that she couldn't not be touching him for more than a few seconds at a time for the duration of the night.

But it doesn't matter.

For once, the details really aren't important.

* * *

><p>Law kicks the door shut behind the dismissed whore, his magician still cradled in his arms. She clings to him, shivering like an addict in desperate need of her next fix. The Supernova crosses to the bed and deposits his cargo, stepping away only long enough to kill the lights and shed his pants before climbing up next to her. Kyra immediately moves to press herself against him, sweaty little hands grasping at his shoulders.<p>

She looks quite beautiful in her frantic need for him, lit by the continuous rain of magma visible through the round windows along the far wall. He claims her mouth in a bruising kiss, biting her already split lip and laving at it so that her blood trickles onto his tongue. Kyra lets out a sexy little moan, jerking her head away and giving him perfect access to the slender expanse of her neck.

"Please," she gasps breathlessly as he rolls her onto her back, straddling her hips and attacking that pale throat with teeth and tongue. Blunt nails dig into his shoulders, sending little pings of pleasure down the Dark Doctor's spine. "Please-please-please-"

Kyra is literally begging him for sex. Law takes a moment to enjoy the experience, making a mental note to tease her mercilessly for it later. For now, however, his magician is wearing too much clothing. His hands smooth down her flat belly to bunch in the fabric of her shirt. The surgeon deliberates attempting to pull the unnecessary garment over Kyra's head. Upon further deliberation he simply fists both hands and tears the shirt from hem to collar, easily sliding it from the girl's trembling frame. Once this is accomplished, questing fingers find their way under the waistband of her loose pants and begin to tug them firmly down restless legs. Undergarments are likewise discarded, until Law settles himself comfortably between her shaking thighs. He can feel his magician's pulse racing where her femoral artery presses against his hip. She is whimpering helplessly beneath him, and Law's blood is boiling from the sound.

He slides a hand under Kyra's head, fisting it in her hair and holding her still while he swoops down to plunder the sweetness of her mouth. It is immensely pleasing when she kisses him back, wrapping her tongue around his and sucking like a child with a lollipop. Law growls his approval as he brings his free hand up and lets the tips of his fingers dance teasingly against the side of her breast. Kyra jerks away from the touch, obviously startled if the widening of her blue eyes is anything to go by.

Law follows through, giving her hair a warning yank as he reclaims her mouth and lays those tickling fingers flush against the small globe of flesh. It's just as scarred as the rest of her, and the pirate explores the texture of her sensitive skin with the roughness of his palm. This earns him a squeal the likes of which he never thought to hear from the Demon Witch, another little thing to file away for blackmail later. He relinquishes his monopoly of her mouth, trailing his tongue languidly down to her throat. Kyra's pulse throbs here as well, her jugular jumping under his lips as he worries the skin over it with his teeth. After a moment the Heart Pirate captain moves to the side of that slender column and sinks his teeth into his magician, biting down hard and letting out a groan of his own as her addictive blood floods his taste buds.

"Law," Kyra is gasping, her skull pressing hard against his hand as she arches into him. "Shit it burns, everything's burning make it stop -"

Law pauses in his ministrations, his hand going still over her breast while his mouth withdraws from the temptation of her bleeding neck. That last part sounded suspiciously like an order, and Trafalgar Law does not take orders from anyone under any circumstances. It doesn't matter that he can't quite make himself pull completely away from the girl. It makes no difference that his left hand refuses to release its hold on her sweat-soaked hair. He will show his woman exactly who is in control here, and introduce her to the consequences of trying to rearrange the position of leadership.

Kyra apparently realizes her mistake once the majority of their bodies have separated, as she falls still except for the continued shaking. She looks up at Law with glazed eyes, covering in sweat, her lips red and swollen from his assault and fresh blood trickling down her neck to stain his sheets.

"You seem to have let the moment run away with you, my magician," Law purrs, sliding one down through her curls until it touches the rough brand burned into her lower back. He digs his fingers into her skin hard, dragging a yelp from the girl just before his free hand clamps around her throat and squeezes threateningly. He smiles then, pulse thrumming in his ears, so hard with his lust for her it is painful.

"You do not have the authority to give me orders. If you would like to make a request, you had better be careful how you word it. This -" - he scraps his nails through the brand, feels her skin peel off and hears her pained whine - "- means nothing. Merrick does not own you, Kyra: _I_ do. And I think I can come up with much more torturous punishments for you than a simple brand."

Law stares down at her, half-expecting a fight, waiting to see if she will try to get away from him now. Will his words have shattered the lust-induced haze that has brought her willingly to his bed? It doesn't matter, really - she is more insane than he is if Kyra really thinks she will be leaving his arms anytime soon.

His musings are unfounded. A trembling hand reaches for him, finds his chest and presses over his heart.

"I'm sorry."

The Surgeon of Death smirks wickedly.

"Please... _don't_ stop. I... I need you."

Kyra's _really_ going to hate herself in the morning.

Releasing her throat so that he can grasp both hips in his strong hands, Law melds himself to his magician and takes a long taste of the mouth which has just said those words, the ones he has been waiting to hear for too long. He pulls away and lowers his face to Kyra's heaving chest, blowing hot breath against sensitized skin and chuckling at the sounds coming out of her. His tongue darts out for a taste before his teeth bite down and pull gently. He does not break the skin, and a moment later he is moving on, skating his lips ever lower, following the line of her stomach as she squirms and grabs at his head. Those dangerous hands of hers clutch his hair, trying futilely to stop him as he smooths his palms down and around and presses her quivering thighs further apart.

"Wait wait what are you doing?" she gasps out, sounding frantic and frightened and sexy as hell. "Don't Law wait please -"

He did tell her that she is free to make requests.

He never said anything about actually listening.

The power to form words is soon beyond Kyra's capability, and when Law has tasted his fill and moved up to her mouth again she lies underneath him like a puddle of jello. He smirks again in satisfaction against her lips, toying with an idea in his head before he leans away and to the side, stuffing his hand beneath the mattress. His fingers grasp cool metal, and the surgeon withdraws the scalpel he keeps hidden in his bed before sitting up. Exhausted blue orbs drift from the deadly tool to the captain's grinning face, a question in their depths that Law has every intention of answering. He quickly flips them so that he lies upon the pillows while Kyra scrambles to brace herself above him, surprised by the sudden change in positions. She opens her mouth to say something, only to snap it shut again when Law cuts a deep gash in his own arm before tossing the scalpel aside and reaching up to grab a handful of black curls.

"Your turn for a taste," the deranged doctor murmurs as he uses his hold on her to pull Kyra down, placing his bleeding arm against her lips. Her eyes widen and she jerks against his restraining hand in a futile attempt to pull back. He is relentless, keeping her firmly where she is and pressing her mouth to his arm until she reluctantly parts her lips. And then Law is gone, from the bed, from the room, from the sub - everything disappears except for the extreme waves of pleasure that wash through his being as his magician sucks the blood from his self-inflicted wound, swirling her tongue inside to get more and growling like an animal. Magic floats around them, wafting out of her skin in waves, stroking the groaning pirate and raising his pleasure to impossible heights.

Law is no virgin by any means. He has had countless women. He has spent hours availing himself of the pleasures of the flesh.

But never before has he felt so close to drowning in it.

When it becomes too much, when he feels as though his insides will burst from the overload of sensation and he literally throbs with his need, Trafalgar Law takes his magician to the mattress once again and relieves his agony.

His last coherent thought is to wonder if this is what it feels like for a star when it goes supernova.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>"So was Captain good, Kyra?"<p>

"Yeah, come on, lady, you can tell us."

"We're your crew, right witch?"

"So spill already. How was it?"

Kyra hunches over a mug of coffee, shrinking into her chair at the table as Law's men press in on her from both sides. A few guys are even leaning over the table, all eagerly waiting for whatever she's going to say next. As if she knows what to say. Maybe, 'I sucked Trafalgar Law's blood last night and it was delicious.' Or perhaps, 'I had sex with your captain and I want to touch him again so bad I bailed from the room before he could wake up because I'm scared shitless.' Then again, 'If I let go of this mug, my hands are going to start shaking with how much I need him to get in here and be close to me.'

Yeah, that would go over real well.

She takes a tiny sip of the bitter brew, eyes fixed resolutely on the tabletop, and says nothing. Her mind is swimming in confusion and need. It feels like some magnetic force is tugging at her guts, urging her to leave the galley and get back to Law _right now. _Images from last night flash before her eyes: the way the falling lava had run off the magic shield outside when Law buried his teeth in her throat; the self-satisfied smirk on his face after he... _sampled_ her; the expression of mind-blowing pleasure that had appeared the instant Kyra relented and wrapped her lips around the gash in his arm.

She can still taste his blood on her tongue, the flavor negating that of the coffee she's nursing. Can the Dark Doctor still taste her?

_Go find out. Remind him of your flavoring._

Kyra scowls fiercely, barely noticing when the crew abruptly shuts up at the look on her face. That annoying voice is back yet again. She really wishes it would just go away for a very extended period. Possibly forever.

_Never leave,_ it whispers in her ear. _Always with you. Protect._

Yippee.

"Okay guys, back off," a voice demands from her left. Glancing over, Kyra sees that Sachi has just booted someone else from the chair next to her and plopped down, waving a dismissive hand at the rest of the men. She senses rather than sees the quiet Penguin take the chair to her right as Sachi adds, "You don't ask a lady a shitload of questions before she's had her coffee unless you've got a death wish. Give our girl some space."

'Our' girl?

_Merrick doesn't own you; **I** do._

Kyra pushes the echo out of her head and instead ponders why the hell Sachi is trying to help her. What does he care if his crewmates want to bombard her with embarrassing questions? He owes her nothing. She has not been a friend to him. She was fully prepared to kill him along with everyone else if it meant the chance to get back to her mother. What can he possibly hope to gain by convincing his buddies to leave her alone?

Maybe he's just trying to make sure Kyra doesn't kill a few out of irritation. That would make sense.

Bepo ambles into the room before she can dwell on the question any further, little Aaron right behind him. The bear's black nose is twitching repeatedly as he follows some scent or other right over to where the tired and slightly achy sorceress is being interrogated. She eyes him warily as that snout brushes against her forehead for a moment before the first mate straightens up, blinking down at her.

"You smell like Captain. Does this mean you finally let him mate you?"

Kyra flushes red to the roots of her hair as the men all start howling with laughter. Aaron comes up to her and tugs lightly on her arm, whispering a question in her ear when she bends her head to him. She jerks back and gives him a stern look.

"Don't. Ask," she commands strictly, turning a spine-chilling glare on the crew that immediately halts all hysterics. "If you say a word in explanation to the kid, you will never be able to have children. So keep your mouths shut."

Everyone cringes at her threat, instantly clamming up and sheepishly returning to their breakfasts. Bepo wanders over to the stove and fills a plate for the boy while taking a platter of sausage for himself before beckoning for Aaron to follow along. The kid dejectedly detaches himself from Kyra's arm and slouches out of the galley with a pout to melt hearts. She watches him go, wondering for the millionth time what in the world has made the boy so fond of her. His behavior is not logical. He should fear her, having been born and raised on Veneficus and no doubt fed lies about the Demon Witch courtesy of all the adults. Yes, Kyra saved him, but she did not expect for a little boy to be able to so easily accept her - to prefer her company - when he has probably spent his whole life being taught to fear the Demon Witch.

Kids are confusing.

"So... how tired are you this morning, girlie?" a guy down the table wearing a bright, knitted cap of lime-green yarn asks. He grins when Kyra glances at him, waggling shaggy blonde eyebrows. "Captain give you a workout? I'm sure he won't mind if you decide you wanna spend the day in bed."

_And men are perverted bastards_, the mage concludes with another fierce blush as the crew starts laughing again. She wonders how much trouble she will be in if she maims a few of them. Law will probably be pissed off, but maybe they'll shut the hell up if they go back to being scared shitless of her.

A full plate of food is banged down on the table in front of her, something hairy and floppy tossed down next to it. Kyra raises her eyes to meet the cook's gaze, not particularly intimidated by the hateful look he's giving her. She can feel Penguin go tense in the next seat, can sense the way Sachi is gearing up to get rid of the beanie-wearing man. She doesn't need their help. Surely these two remember what his face looked like the last time he really pissed her off.

"Make yourself useful, ya little slut," Neil sneers from across the table as he sits and stabs angrily at what Kyra thinks might be pathetically overcooked scrambled eggs. "Go give Captain his breakfast." He jabs an egg-laden fork at the hairy black thing next to the plate for Law. "You can wear that so's Captain don't have to wake up to your ugly face."

No one says anything for a moment, pausing in their consumption of a shitty breakfast to see what the witch's reaction will be. Ignoring their scrutiny, Kyra reaches out to pick up the unidentifiable accessory she's supposed to wear. It seems to be made of rubber, and she turns it over in her hands to get a better look.

A slack, eyeless face stares back at her.

**_Hello, lovey._**

_Danger. Too close under her shield turn and fight kill him -_

_Something in his hand. Bile in her throat. MamaMamaMama -_

_Her face. Empty eyes._

**_Do you have a kiss for Mummy?_**

_Blood on the reverse side. Mama's skin on her skin. A deathmask, suffocating her. No air. No breath._

_Can't breathe._

_Help-me-Mama-somebody-help-me-help-me-oh-gods -_

"Fucking bitch!"

Kyra jerks back to her senses at this shout, staring down at the remnants of the costume mask in her hands. It has been completely shredded, the pieces sifting through her fingers to decorate her lap like confetti. The cook is on his feet again, bellowing filth at her - "I got that in North Blue, dammit, what the fuck is your problem you goddamn freak!" - apparently furious that she has mangled his little toy beyond saving. Sachi has a hand on her right arm while Penguin is pressing up against her left. Their faces show nothing but concern for her. The rest of the crew is staring in her direction with expressions ranging from shock to worry to terror. Kyra lowers her gaze back to the destroyed mask, fighting down the remainder of her panic and deliberating on where she wants to go hide for a while. If they weren't docked at a fucking volcano she'd just go exploring or something. Stupid island.

She doesn't see him come in, but she knows he's there when strong fingers weave through her hair to begin a teasing caress. Her entire body snaps to attention, and it is a fight not to alter the rhythm of her breathing. She can smell him behind her, smell the man-antiseptic-ocean scent that follows her captain around and lingers on her skin from so many nights forced to share a sleeping space with him.

"Is there a problem?" Law asks politely, and Kyra doesn't know if he's asking her or his men but right now there's no way in hell she can answer him so the guys will have to deal with it. She tunes out whatever Sachi starts babbling and concentrates on hiding the way her hands have started shaking again. She's afraid of what ideas Law will get if he notices. Trying to get up is a bust; Law's fingers just tighten enough to let her know she's not going anywhere.

The Demon Witch twitches when cool lips brush against her ear, trying valiantly to ignore that damn voice and its whispers of _he's right there, turn and meet his mouth with yours, claim him for all to see, he is yours -_

"Have you eaten your fill?" the Dark Doctor murmurs huskily, blunt nails scratching at her skull. Kyra would rather starve than eat the slop Neil considers suitable for breakfast - for someone who can cook gourmet food for afternoon and evening meals, the guy is seriously challenged when it comes to toast - so she gives a single nod. The fingers retreat from her hair and Kyra is out of that chair and on the way to the hatch in a flash, leaving a trail of rubber flecks behind her. Once outside she scrubs trembling hands furiously at her prickling eyes. Thank the gods her cheeks are dry - she'd hate for those men to see her so damn vulnerable.

She doesn't move or speak when a male body crowds her against a section of railing, doesn't react when her hair is pushed over one shoulder and a warm mouth begins nibbling at the exposed chunk of her neck. A hand finds its way under the hem of her tank top to stroke at her quivering belly.

"My bedroom is in the opposite direction, my magician."

"Not tired," the sorceress mutters, palms pressing hard into her eyes so she isn't tempted to do something else with them. A chuckle reverberates through her back, pressed as it is against Law's strong chest.

"Merrick peeled my mother's face off."

The chuckling stops abruptly.

"Actually he peeled all of her head off," Kyra continues. "Hair, scalp, whatever, the whole damn head. Like he cut it off and then got rid of the bones and brains and shit. When I went back, they told me she was at the shaman's home, and Merrick showed up carrying her fucking face like a mask in his hand. Like your cook's little mask in there. I really hate that goddamn cook."

The lips against her neck are still, as is the hand across her stomach. Kyra rambles on, her own hands removing themselves from her face to wrap tightly around the railing.

"Sometimes, when he was toying with me, or if I hadn't passed out when he stopped for the day, Merrick would tell me what he did to my mother while he was trying to force her to give up where I might be. As if she would have known. He told me he didn't kill her until he got word that I met up with Jericho in that damn bar. He liked to tell me how much he enjoyed her screams."

They stand there silent for a long time, watching the lava from the volcanic island splatter harmlessly against the shield Kyra threw up last night. She doesn't know why the hell she just said all that. She's well aware that Law doesn't give two shits about her mother and could probably care less about how or when or why Naomi died. Hell, Kyra's more than cognizant of the fact that the Surgeon of Death doesn't _care_ about her. He might be drawn to her, obsessed with her, possessive of her, but that's as far as it goes. The thought of Trafalgar Law declaring his undying love to Kyra is both totally absurd and absolutely terrifying.

Not that it matters, anyway. It's not like Kyra's stupid enough to feel anything for _Law._

"How long are we going to be stuck here?" she finally asks, shifting slightly and wishing she could put some space between them. This closeness is doing weird things to her insides, and she can feel the tremors trying to start up again as the magic nudges her to turn around and do something stupid. Law doesn't seem to notice her discomfort - or maybe he just doesn't care. He actually manages to press closer, nipping lightly at her neck and following when Kyra tries to moves away. She nearly jumps in surprise when the Supernova groans, lapping at a sore spot on the side of her throat and tightening his hold on her abdomen as though to keep her still.

"Why," he growls, his fingertips digging into her gut and his breath hot against the sudden wetness on the top of her shoulder, "does your blood taste so damn good?"

Oh, hell, that's the spot where he bit her last night. Kyra finds herself turning without thought, bringing her hands up to Law's chest and shoving at him. She freezes with fingers clenched in his hoodie, gritting her teeth against the urge to yank him back to her. This is fucking ridiculous. The damn shaman seriously failed to explain just how strong the soul-bond is during those long-ago lessons. From what she remembers, after the initial... coupling_,_ the pair should be perfectly normal as far as their sexual appetites. Kyra should not be feeling this aching need to touch Law's bare skin.

She doesn't know about the pirate captain: he might just be some kind of sex fiend or something. Kyra wouldn't be surprised.

Law's laughter vibrates down the sorceress' arms as he leans in, putting his arms around her so that his hands rest at the base of her spine. His lips are red and it only takes her a second to realize that the coloring is from her blood.

"Stubborn, stubborn little girl," he coos, forcing her back until she once again bumps into the railing. "I don't recall you being so unwilling last night. Unless my memory is playing tricks on me, I could swear that you begged for me to touch you. Why not now? You're trembling just the way you did before, my magician. What new game are you trying to play?"

"Don't," she barks out, bending over the railing backwards to dodge that damn mouth. "You got what you wanted last night, so get the hell off me you jackass. Leave me alone."

Law smiles, and it is so akin to an animal baring its teeth that Kyra can't control her flinch away.

"I believe -" - crap, he's speaking in that almost-whisper tone that means he is _not_ happy - "- that we had a discussion yesterday evening about the consequences of trying to give me orders, Kyra. You seemed to understand just fine at the time."

_I'm-sorry-please-don't-stop-I-need-you_ -

Dammit.

"As I've already explained, you are mine. I will touch you whenever I feel like it."

A firm hand slides up her thoracic vertebrae and exerts pressure to straighten her spine. She can't even push back against it; her damn body isn't listening to her anymore. As soon as her mouth is in his line of fire Law swoops in and kisses her with bruising force, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip and holding on when she tries to pull free. His eyes are glittering, taunting her, reveling in her weakness and her inability to resist him. Her helplessness makes Kyra feel sick the way little else can.

He releases her mouth and starts to back towards the hatch, arms still like iron bands around her. Kyra slips her foot around one ankle and jerks, tripping Law and sending them both to the deck. Immediately he flips them and pins her beneath him, grabbing her wrists and slamming them down to the floor. She snarls up at him, wriggling and twisting in an attempt to unseat him. The Dark Doctor doesn't seem at all perturbed; he hasn't even lost his smirk, the smug bastard.

"Why must you continue to fight the inevitable?" he muses in a tone that makes her want to beat the shit out of him. "Don't try to tell me you didn't enjoy yourself last night. What is so horrible about accepting the fact that you like it when I put my hands on you, you crave my lips on yours, and my blood is just as addictive to you as yours is to me?"

"I can't help it!" Kyra spits at him, hating herself for how much she enjoys having his fingers wrapped around her wrists, for how right it feels to be so damn close to him. "It's not by choice, what's happening between us! It's just the damn soul-bond, and I don't know how to get rid of it. I hate feeling compelled to touch you. I hate the way I want to bite you on the off chance I'll get a sample of your blood. I hate the way this fucking bond make me feel and act! I'm tired of having confirmation that I'm a freak!"

He has the gall to laugh at her like she's just said something funny. She longs to punch him, to make him hurt the way she hurts. She wants to take that self assurance, that confidence, and shatter it into a billion tiny pieces. The son of a bitch probably hasn't ever had a moment of self-doubt in his entire life. What the hell does Law know about how she feels?

"Your problem, my dear magician, is that you spend far too much time fighting your own nature. You fear what you are capable of, possibly because you spent your childhood being reviled for your amazing abilities. But just because you do your damnedest to deny it, this does not change the reality that you are what most people would consider a monster. Even if you had been given the chance to be some kind of child prodigy, joined the Navy and spent your life saving people from scoundrels like me, there would still have been countless voices whispering behind your back. You would still have been feared, still have been hated, and without pirates like myself and my men who accept the weird and dangerously unexplainable, you would have been completely alone."

Kyra hates his fucking voice. She wants him to shut up. Her eyes clench shut and she turns her head away from him, trying to block him out.

"You are a monster. You are a freak. You will never be normal. You will never be accepted by civilized society. No sane man is ever going to allow you to come within fifty feet of them, let alone waste the time getting to know you. What has yet to penetrate that thick skull of yours is that I have never once claimed to be completely sane. I don't give a damn about civilized society or what they consider proper. I have never been afraid of you, not even when you still retained the ability to kill me with a wave of your little finger. My crew was never afraid of you until you threatened to slaughter them all if I refused to allow you to go back to your precious mother. You mentioned that your magic is what chooses who you become soul-bonded with, correct? Perhaps you should pay attention to its decision. It didn't bind you to some boring civilian. It bound you to _me._ What does that tell you about your true nature, Kyra? When the magic that everyone hates you for tied you to a pirate who doesn't care how far from the norm you are?"

She doesn't want to hear this, damn him. She doesn't want to acknowledge the ring of truth behind everything he's just said. She can't stand the thought that she might actually fit with this man.

Warm lips sweep across her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. Hands trail up across her chin, turning her head so those lips can dominate her own yet again. Pressure to her jaw forces her teeth to part, leaving Kyra to lie helpless as Law takes what he wants. She is breathless when he pulls away, tugging her up with him and holding on until she opens her eyes in defeat.

"What did you do with my hat last night?"

The furry thing is wrapped in her magic and zipping towards them from the far side of the deck before Kyra has fully processed the question. Law catches it with a grin and jams it onto his head before sticking a hand in a pocket of his hoodie and pulling out something very similar. The Demon Witch doesn't realize what it is until her captain places it on her own head, uncharacteristically gentle as he pulls his old cap in place. The fur is soft, just as Kyra remembers, and she wonders where he found it after she left. Law's hands curve to fit her face, lifting it so that she is forced to meet his gaze.

"You're mine, Kyra. Your mother is dead, your cousin betrayed you. You have no reason to leave my crew again. I have no intention of releasing you from my service. Besides -" - he smirks down at her and moves one hand to tap against her nearly-hollow chest - "- this time I do have leverage, and I don't anticipate giving it up any time soon. I believe you would be much less miserable if you came to terms with your situation, my magician. It isn't going to change just because you continue to deny it."

Trafalgar Law removes his hands from Kyra completely and walks around her, heading for the hatch that will lead him back into his submarine.

"We'll be docked here for the next three days. Keep the shield up unless I tell you otherwise. I will be in the infirmary until lunch if you need me; don't skip the meal, you're still too thin."

The heavy metal door bangs shut behind him as the first of many tears slip their way down Kyra's cheeks.

_Fuck._

* * *

><p>Law watches Kyra closely during dinner. She picks at her food, only actually eating when prompted to do so by Penguin or Sachi on either side of her. She says nothing, keeping those blue eyes fixed on her plate as though afraid to look up. Law can't seem to get rid of the tiny smirk adorning his lips, knowing full well that his magician can feel his scrutiny and it's making her extremely uncomfortable. Kyra has been trying very hard to avoid the Dark Doctor since their little tussle this morning. She did not disobey his order to attend the noon meal, but still shoveled her food in so fast she was in danger of choking herself. Kyra was up and gone again before anyone else was halfway through with their first course.<p>

Her avoidance tactics and the fact that she feels uneasy around him after having his tongue all over her last night is rather adorable.

"Kyra," he calls now, smirk deepening when the girl twitches. She reluctantly raises her head to look at him, an almost fearful expression on her face. He wonders for a moment what exactly she thinks he might say, to look so afraid.

"The men would like to go onto the island for the evening," Law informs her smoothly, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with half-lidded eyes. "What can you do about getting them there without lowering your shield? Bepo is staying to watch the boy, and I'd rather not give him a chance to resume his fussing about the heat."

"They can do whatever they want. I'm just keeping out the worst parts of the lava." Kyra goes back to poking at the produce on her plate, apparently having lost interest in the conversation already. Law says nothing further, sitting silently at his table and nursing his drink until his magician pushes her dinner away and stands to leave. When she moves to go around his chair, he hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her into his lap. She fights him - of course she does, she wouldn't be Kyra without a fight - but after months of torture even a strong person would have difficulty struggling with Trafalgar Law. He maneuvers them until her side presses against his chest, his arms around her torso constricting any thought of escape. The pirates are snickering into their dinners, and Kyra gives her amused captain a look that would have lesser men quivering in dread.

He just smirks and holds on tighter.

"Why the hurry to leave? Sit with us for a while." Law grins, leaning toward her ear so he can breathe the next words for her alone. "Unless you're headed for bed. If that were the case, I would be more than happy to join you."

"The majority of your crew is scared shitless of me. Why force them to put up with my presence longer than necessary?"

This gives him pause for a moment, more from the carefully bland tone than the words. Why is his magician purposely hiding everything in her voice? If Law didn't know any better, he would say that the crew's unease around her might actually bother Kyra. Perhaps she cares a tiny bit more about his men than the Surgeon of Death has previously thought.

Or she's just toying with him.

It isn't until he rubs his chin against her shoulder that Law notices the tiny tremors. Intrigued, he moves his head back and sits quietly with his arms around her. Yes, he can feel it now: vibrations, barely noticeable unless he looks for them. He can feel them against his chest, arms and thighs. Kyra is trembling.

"Goodnight, men."

The crew knows him well enough to understand that they have been politely prompted to get lost immediately. In a remarkably short amount of time Law is alone in the galley but for his magician. The mess will be taken care of in the morning. The ship will be deserted tonight except for Bepo and the kid, and the first mate of the Heart Pirates wouldn't even consider bothering his captain when Law's bedroom door is shut and locked.

"Better?" he inquires teasingly, fingers searching for the bottom of Kyra's tank top so he can touch her bare skin. "Don't hold the men's behavior against them. They'll get used to you again in time. You'll simply have to be patient."

She does not reply. Her head is facing away from him, staring at the wall behind the table with unnatural intensity. The quivering is slowly growing more noticeable, and Law looks down to watch as dainty little hands fist so tightly the knuckles stand out white against the skin. One eyebrow rises and teasing lips graze over a twitching shoulder. Kyra is acting like a druggie whose poison has been removed from her reach. The difference is in the fact that the pigheaded girl is sitting in her poison's lap.

"I really dislike it when my crew does things to hurt themselves, Kyra," the surgeon murmurs against her neck, wishing she faced the other way so that the bite mark on her neck was under his mouth. It had pleased him immensely this morning to find that Kyra's magic has not healed it; it can serve as a sign to the world that Law has definitely laid claim to the Demon Witch. His crew knows better than to say anything about it, and anyone else foolish enough to comment is easily disposed of.

"I'm not doing anything."

He grins into her skin, tongue darting out for a taste. "You're shaking. Why is that?"

Kyra's body goes completely tense. Law can feel the strain her muscles are under from this attempt to hold absolutely still. She mutters something about the soul-bond and moves as though to stand, trying to get away from him like she always does. Apparently her attitude has not changed at all from last night - unless you count a new sense of deep shame that's been following her around like a black cloud all day. If Law's ego was less resilient, he might be insulted. He doesn't loosen his hold to allow her to run off. Instead he gets to his feet, adjusting the positioning of his arms so that she is cradled against his chest like a teddy bear. Dangling off the floor, Kyra is obviously not pleased, if the hands pressing against his shoulders are any indication.

"What the fuck, Law? I can walk, you idiot, so can you put me down? What are you doing?"

The pirate hums noncommittally in answer, striding towards his room and tuning out her continued protests. He drops her on his rumpled bed-sheets and closes the door before moving to perch on the edge of his desk. Kyra sits up and scrambles to stand, flinching away from the bed as though it burns her. Law watches her eye the door for a moment before settling against a section of the wall and hesitantly meeting his gaze.

"Tell me more about this soul-bond you're always complaining about," the Dark Doctor prompts coolly. Her face visibly blanches with shock for a moment before she peers at him suspiciously. Law doesn't react, just folds his arms over his chest and waits for her to begin speaking.

"Um, okay..."

"As well as anything in your past concerning the soul-bond."

She frowns but takes only a moment to consider his request before continuing. "The island I'm from is called Veneficus. Pretty sure it's somewhere here in the New World, but I don't know anything about reading maps so I couldn't point it out to you unless it was labeled. It's perfectly circular, and Veneficus is the name of the city as well as the island it sits on. It's divided into seventy-seven rings, segregated by class, with the dregs of society living on the outskirts of the island. That's where I grew up. I was a citizen of the seventy-seventh ring. The elitists called us _sordes,_ which means filth in the ancient tongue."

Law listens closely, filing away all the information she is giving him by both her words and the minute changes in her expression.

"Veneficus is... I don't know, there's something under the surface of the island that gives its really lucky citizens magical abilities. It's ruled by the shaman, which is a title passed down from father to son to mother to daughter. It's like a royal family, supposedly from the first people to make a home on the island. Actually they're kind of like the Tenryubito: you piss them off and you die. They rule with an iron fist. They have a personal army of trained mages called the Proeliators, led by the strongest person outside of the shaman's family on the island. That person, man or woman, is given the title of Imperator. The Proeliators answer to him, and he answers directly to the shaman."

She pauses, giving him a searching look as though to see if he is following her so far. He nods once, indicating that she should continue.

"You know how my magic is black unless I'm healing someone? That's not the norm on Veneficus. Neither is the pure white. Everybody else's magic manifests in this kind of eggshell color. Plus, magic is always inherited. It's more a family trait, like hair or eye color. If your mother or father have it, you might. If neither of them do, if no one in the entire history of your family has it and you somehow get the gift, people treat you like a freak and call you a monster."

Kyra is pacing restlessly now as she goes into greater detail. "The islanders with magic can't transport the way I do. They can't kill people with a gesture. They can't bring people back from the dead. Only a small group of them have the ability to heal major wounds. They all have to be trained by the shaman for years to manifest their magic on command. I don't know if they can even use their powers if they were to leave the island, because the Veneficus itself is what gives them power in the first place."

"But not you," Law interrupts smoothly.

She gives an unladylike snort in response. "Me? I was making stuff fly through the air as a toddler. You've seen me kill. You were there when I resurrected Firefist Ace. The first time I brought somebody back to life, I was three. I was playing around the trash heaps in my district with some other _sordes_ kids and one of them got buried under a mountain of garbage. She was dead by the time some adults managed to dig her out. I remember bawling in my mother's arms, wanting to know why she wasn't moving. I was told a few years later that a white dome appeared around us, I started talking to the girl like she was right there next to me, and then she took a gulp of air and sat up like nothing was wrong with her.

"The shaman took me on as his apprentice two years after that. We covered soul-bonds when I was ten."

Kyra stops again, rubbing her hands nervously against her thighs. Law can see that she is sweating, though the temperature in the sub has been pleasantly cool since she put a shield around them the previous evening. It's fairly obvious that she is not comfortable talking about this subject, but he is the Surgeon of Death - he enjoys torture, physical or mental. He rises from his seat on the desk's edge, crosses the room to stand in front of her and puts his hands flat on the wall to either side of her head. His magician flinches into the metal as though trying to put nonexistent space between them when Law moves in to nuzzle the bite mark on her neck.

"Go on," he orders softly right before he takes a small portion of her flesh between his teeth and clamps down gently. Kyra's breath hitches, her voice shaking as she plows on desperately.

"U-um, soul-bonds are like... m-marriage on a deeper level. Your, um, magic picks out the one person in your life who's most c-compatible with you and kind of... sews your souls together. Sometimes the shaman uses his own power and his total authority to force a soul-bond, like he wanted to do with me and M-Merrick - _s-shit_!"

Law has pressed his body flush against hers upon hearing that man's name on _his_ magician's lips. He lifts his face from her neck and looks down at her quivering form with lazy eyes and a satisfied smirk, enjoying the feel of her heat against him. Her eyes are clenched so tightly closed that she's probably giving herself a headache. Her fingers are digging into the skin of his hips through the fabric of his jeans, but Law has doubts that Kyra even realizes she is touching him. She starts babbling again as he studies her, almost like she hopes the words will anchor her.

"Once a pair is bonded, they're supposed to be able to control each other's magic if they both have some. If not the non-magic person is safe from his partner's abilities, which is why I can't _throw you through a fucking wall_. Their dreams are tied like ours are. Okay there I explained, so get the hell off of me you freaking maniac."

She looks about ready to crawl out of her own skin. Law is extremely amused.

"Ah, ah, not so fast," he scolds her gently, liking the way her cheek jumps under the flow of his hot breath. "You haven't giving me a reason as to why you are shaking. You said it was because of the soul-bond. Elaborate."

"I'm trying not to touch you, okay?" Kyra abruptly blurts out, grip on his hips tightening significantly. "I don't want to touch you! The soul-bond is like - just - tugging me to put my hands all over you and it's pretty difficult not to when you're being such a fucking cuddle whore! So if you'd be so kind as to back the fuck off -"

Law silences her with a kiss that bangs her head against the wall with its force. He makes quick work of shedding his hoodie, prying her hands from his hips and planting them on his chest before pulling away from her mouth to let her breathe. Kyra jerks frantically at her arms, obviously desperate to pull away from where they rest over the Dark Doctor's sadistic little heart. Law holds them in place with an iron grip, delighted at the panic plain on his magician's face.

"Why would you resist an urge like that?" he purrs, cataloguing the way that particular tone sends additional shivers through the trapped girl. "I don't believe I've done anything to give you the idea that I dislike your touch. If I have, I would be more than happy to rectify the situation."

Still gripping her wrists, Law starts backing slowly towards the bed, watching Kyra's expression get caught somewhere between relief and abject horror as he pulls her along with him. She seems a little stunned, which explains why she hardly puts up a fight when the captain of the Heart Pirates flops upon the comfortable mattress and drags her up against his chest. "Touch away, my dear magician."

She freezes, staring at him with wide blue eyes. Law lets go of her and folds his hands behind his head, a lazy smile on his lips as he meets her startled gaze.

"I'm going after One Piece, Kyra," he reminds her in a quiet, intense voice he usually reserves for situations in which he is extremely angry. "And you are coming with me. Raftel is the last island in the New World, located somewhere past all the others. If your Veneficus is indeed in this half of the Grand Line, there is a very good chance that we will pass it. I find myself curious to meet with this shaman. Perhaps we will see if he enjoys being part of my experiments, as he so obviously likes to conduct them. If by the time we get to Raftel we have still not passed your old home, then won't they be honored to receive a visit from the Pirate King himself? We'll have to stop by and say hello."

One hand comes up to stroke along Kyra's cheek, curving around to grab a hank of hair and pull her further up his body. She doesn't resist at all, still staring at Law as though the pirate has grown an extra head. He kisses her roughly, tongue plunging into her mouth and exploring at will while hesitant hands grab his sides in an unsure grip. He grins against her lips and pulls back, admiring the flush on Kyra's face.

"The kid's an orphan," he informs her flippantly, fingers digging through her curls to stroke her scalp just for the split second of pure bliss that always flashes across her expression. "Bepo says your little Aaron confessed that his mother and father died of some disease or other at some point before you went home. I don't care if he's on my ship or not as long as he doesn't cause a problem. There is no reason to rush back to Veneficus. The brat is as safe here as he would be there, and I'm sure this shaman you speak of will still be there when we come to call. You've lost your excuse not to stay with me. As a wanted pirate, I have no doubt that we will meet up with Mr. Merrick at some point in the future, and you will have the chance to avenge your darling mother. So why don't you just set aside this idiotic stubborn streak of yours and enjoy the fringe benefits of the soul bond you loathe so much?"

Law kisses her again before his magician can attempt to argue, his hand trailing down from her scalp to the base of her spine and slipping nimble fingers under the hem of her top. Kyra twitches, tenses... and then goes limp against him, all struggle draining out of her body like shadows fleeing the sunlight. He lets her scoot down enough to bury her face in his chest, exulting at his little victory as he manuevers the shirt over her head so that her skin can press against his. The surgeon places his palm on the back of Kyra's head, stroking gently through her hair. He has given her much to think about today, dumping it all on her right after their activities last night. He will give her time to process it all. Law can be patient when the situation calls for it, and this is one of those times. Once Kyra has everything squared away in her head he has every confidence that she will approach him as she did last night - perhaps not as frantic, but still asking for the same thing. Until then Law will content himself with teasing and touching her whenever the mood strikes him, whether awake or in the world of their dreams.

That should keep him well entertained for quite a while.

* * *

><p>Merrick hefts the old man's head in one hand, listening to his gibbering daughter scream from a few feet away. The shaman's eyes have rolled back, exposing the whites to the scientist's gaze. His body lies at Merrick's feet, blood soaking the stone floor of a beautiful solar in the obsidan mansion. Spread out around them are the corpses of the little army the old man controlled, mutilated beyond recognition following a brief attempt to kill the scientist at their master's command.<p>

Kyra has been gone for a month, and all the shaman's attempts to force her return through magic have failed miserably.

A month.

Merrick's patience has long since evaporated.

_Lovey..._

He tosses the shaman's head aside and steps towards Lihla, who is screaming and crying, pressed against the wall and unable to move.

_Where are you, lovey-dearest?_

He reaches out and gently strokes a line down the blonde woman's cheek, shushing her as one would a frightened child.

"Hush now, Lihla-pretty," Merrick croons, cupping her cheek in a hand coated with her father's blood. "Don't be afraid, dear. I'm not going to hurt you. No, no, no. I still have use for you."

_You're mine, lovey._

"Come now," he prompts softly, drawing Lihla's frozen form away from the wall and leading her firmly for the front door. "It's time to leave, Lihla-pretty. I have to go back to work, I'm afraid, and I'll have to take you along with me. Could I perhaps convince you to play nurse again for me? It worked so well last time. Come; let's go to my ship. We'll go to Navy HQ so I can check in, and I will introduce you to my superiors. I'm sure they'll love you. We should have no trouble having you installed as a Navy nurse under my command. Won't that be nice, dear?"

_And I **will** find you again._

_I'm coming, lovey. I'm coming for you._

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>Eighteen Months Later<p>

"Luffy! Dammit, come on already! Don't you wanna meet up with your crew?"

"I gotta get my hat! Five minutes, Ace, I promise!"

Fire Fist Ace heaves a defeated sigh as his little brother disappears into the surrounding forest. He forces a smile to his lips as he turns to the Pirate Empress standing next to him. "Sorry for the delay, ma'am. I'm sure he'll hurry back; Luffy's real anxious to rejoin his friends."

Boa Hancock makes no attempt to reply, occupied as she is with staring off in the direction Luffy has disappeared with lovesick eyes and a disgustingly girly expression on her beautiful face. Ace edges away from her slightly, uncomfortable at this renewed reminder of the Shichibukai's obsessive regard for his oblivious little brother. Luffy hasn't so much as hinted at a reciprocation of the woman's affection, but this has done nothing to deter her. Ace wisely decides to keep his own counsel on the matter. If the crazy snake lady wants to pine over his little bro - and is willing to do anything to keep him safe and happy - then more power to her. Luffy could do a lot worse than having such a powerful figure decide she's head over heels for him. Better Luffy than Ace: this chick is freakin' scary.

Five minutes come and go with no sign of the rubber numbskull. Ace is starting to get fidgety. He is more than ready to get the hell off this island for good. Not that he doesn't appreciate the fact that Hancock has allowed them to stay here for the past two years, but after his time as a pirate - both with the Spade Pirates and with Whitebeard - staying in one place for such an extended period of time is just about to drive him completely crazy. The only reason his sanity hasn't completely cracked is due to his frequent visits with what's left of his Whitebeard family. They have provided an escape from this place, which reminds him too much of Mount Colubo. He's tired of the constant flashbacks to childhood. He doesn't want to continually glance to his right, expecting to see Sabo sitting next to him with that big happy grin, only to be jolted back to reality.

Besides, if the women of Amazon Lily are here, all the more reason to get the hell out of town. These ladies are completely insane, as proven when a group of them had tried to stretch him out a few days after his resurrection. That would have been a hell of a way to go: torn apart by scantily-clad females. Sabo would have given him shit about that for the rest of the afterlife.

Ace sighs again, rubbing his eyes. Luffy's taking forever. Hopefully the little idiot didn't get lost. He slides a glance over at the Empress, cringing slightly at her expression. If that is what being in love makes you look like, Ace is going to be single for the rest of his life. He gets enough grief about looking like a flippin' moron thanks to his damn narcolepsy; nobody's cool with food splattered all over their face. He quickly turns his gaze back in the direction from which he's hoping to see his brother - and promptly jumps back with a most unmanly yelp, landing right on his ass in his surprise.

The woman who has magically appeared in front of him lifts a single eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest and the corners of her lips twitching as though trying to decide whether to smirk or not. "Nice dismount, Fire Fist. This is the man who makes the entire World Government shit a collective brick?"

Holy hell, it's that chick who brought him back to life! Ace scrambles to his feet, mouth working like a fish out of water as he tries to think of something to say. Damn, what's her name again? Hancock is suddenly very close to the girl, face twisted into an unattractive mask of fury.

"OUTSIDER! HOW DARE YOU INVADE MY KINGDOM!"

The miracle worker gives the buxom beauty a look that clearly questions her sanity. "I needed to ask Fire Fist some questions, and I didn't know he was still here. I just concentrated on finding him. I'll be out of here shortly, lady, so why don't you just chill out before you give yourself an aneurysm?"

Ace watches Hancock's spine stiffen, hears the rustling that is probably her warrior women preparing to attack his savior of two years previous. She doesn't look the least bit worried, nonchalantly sidestepping the Shichibukai and strolling up to him like she doesn't have a care in the world. One dainty-looking hand reaches out and pokes Ace lightly in the chest, right over the area that had been punctured by a fist of magma the last time they met.

"You seem to be doing all right. Get back in touch with the rest of the Whitebeard leftovers, or have you been too busy hanging around here babysitting Straw Hat?"

"Uhh... y-yeah," Ace stutters out brilliantly before giving himself a sharp shake. That is not the way to speak to a lady, and it's damn sure not how he's going to address the woman who gave him a second chance at life. He scrambles upright and gives her a deep bow. "I mean, yes, ma'am. I met up with the guys about two months after you saved me. Might I inquire as to why you're asking?"

"You don't have to bow, Fire Fist, I'm not some kind of princess. And drop the ma'am crap. I'm Kyra; don't remember if anybody bothered to tell you my name after I resurrected you. I was too busy _burning,_ mind."

Ace immediately straightens up, heat flooding his face as he recalls the damage he inflicted on this woman right after she gave him his life back. Shit, he'd forgotten all about that, and he'd never even asked for her forgiveness before she left with her crew. He opens his mouth to offer an extremely belated apology and is immediately cut off.

"I want to know if your Whitebeard pals have made any headway in finding that fat-ass, Blackbeard."

The son of the last Pirate King feels something cold and unpleasant slide down his spine at her tone. Like... like he's confronting a predator who has been denied her prey for too long. Her expression has not changed, but _something_ has. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and Ace can feel the flames under his skin quivering in anticipation of battle. His stomach is abruptly twisting itself into knots, and he tenses at the threat in the air. Kyra's eyes narrow slightly at the involuntary movement.

"Don't do something stupid, Fire Fist," she murmurs, cocking her head to the side and giving him a look like she's sizing him up. "I'm not here to fight you. If I was you'd be dead already. I just want to know if you've got any new information on Tubbo."

Ace tamps down on the urge to defend himself, well aware from all the stories he's been told about Marineford that she is not bullshitting him. Luffy has related how she easily slaughtered the Marines that got in her way. All of his brothers from the Whitebeard crew remember seeing her deadly powers in action; Marco has told Ace about her attack against Blackbeard after the bastard and his crew killed Pops, and how she was only stopped from wiping him off the face of the planet by the interference of Red-Haired Shanks. Everyone he's spoken to about this woman, minus Luffy, is equal parts awed and about halfway terrified of her.

Fire Fist Ace has only to take a good hard look at her to understand why.

Before he can say anything in reply to her demand for information, Luffy comes barreling back through the dense jungle, beloved straw hat jammed firmly on his head.

"Okay! I got my hat, so let's go! Everyone's gonna be waiting for us! Ace, wait til you see the Sunny, and you still have to meet Robin and Franky and Brook! Everybody's gonna be so happy to see you, and Sanji'll make us a feast! Let's go!"

All this is said in an excited tone while Luffy bounces over to the pyrotechnic pirate, thrilled at the prospects of seeing all his friends again and obviously blind to their guest. Ace quickly grabs his brother in a headlock, knocking the precious hat to the ground and digging his knuckles into Luffy's rubber scalp.

"Hey moron, say hi to our visitor! Don't be so rude!"

"MY HAT!"

Said accessory rolls to a stop at Kyra's feet. The former division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates tightens his hold on the captain of the Straw Hats as the deadly female bends over and picks up Luffy's most prized possession. Predictably, his brother immediately freaks, twisting and turning as he tries to break free.

"HEY! DON'T TOUCH MY HAT, LADY!"

"Luffy, just calm down! Kyra's not the enemy, don't you remember her? I owe her my life, dumbass! Quit - struggling - gah! Idiot, don't bite me!"

Further tussling proves unnecessary when Kyra marches over and places the hat back on Luffy's head without a word. Luffy freezes in Ace's grip, a blank look on his face as he studies the woman. After a moment his eyes light up in recognition.

"KYRA? WOW, ACE LOOK IT'S KYRA!"

Yanking himself free, Luffy darts forward and wraps himself around the sorceress like a pretzel. Ace winces at the look on Kyra's face before a dark haze pushes itself out of her body, shoving Luffy away and forming a small bubble around the scowling woman. Eyes widening, he darts another glance over at the Snake Princess - as obsessed as she is with Luffy and all things pertaining to his happiness and wellbeing, that last bit seems like the kind of thing that would piss Hancock off. Amazingly, the gorgeous ruler of the Amazons is still standing in the exact same place as minutes before; she hasn't moved or said a word since yelling at Kyra. Whipping his head around, Ace is shocked to see that the warrior women who accompanied their lady are likewise stock-still, looking like flesh-toned statues.

Kyra answers his unspoken question. "They're not hurt. I'll let them go right before I leave. I just didn't want to deal with that woman's voice; it's annoying."

Ace's gaze goes back to Kyra, who is watching him closely through that protective cloud around her. Her eyes give him pause, bringing his flames roaring to his skin on instinct alone. Those orbs are pure black, staring out from a pretty face like a monster from under a bed. He is crouched defensively between this menace and Luffy before he registers his own movement, every cell in his body screaming at him to protect his brother from the threat. The dark mage regards his protective action without concern.

"Are you going to tell me what I want to know, Fire Fist? Because I'm kind of pressed for time here. Law only gave me ten minutes leave away."

"Hey Ace! What's the matter? Why're you flaming?" Luffy moves to stand at his side, a puzzled look on that dearly loved face. "Kyra's not gonna hurt us. She's our friend!"

Luffy is right. There is no danger here. Calm down, fire. Go back to sleep. Ace takes a deep breath, the flames on his skin dying as he exhales. Kyra watches impassively from inside her protection. She cocks her head to the side again as her eyes fade to blue, and Ace is relieved to see nothing dire in her gaze. He pulls himself out of his crouch and smiles sheepishly.

"What exactly did you want to know?"

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law smirks wickedly, holding his hand out palm-down in front of him. "Room."<p>

The scent of blood is already heavy in the air. All around him his men are fighting, cutting down the Marines with well-disciplined ease. Bepo flies by, kicking a half dozen men over the railing and into the sea. The adrenaline of battle pumps fast through his system, and the Surgeon of Death rides the high as he chops a crowd of soldiers into pieces before scrambling them with a flick of the wrist. Their screams wash over him like the finest music.

The field of his Devil Fruit dissolves as he turns away, his eyes going immediately to the crowd of Marines clustered around the figure of his magician. One man foolishly rushes forward, sword raised over his head as he bellows a battle cry. He is torn to bits before he has taken five steps.

Law grins in amusement, casually sidestepping a punch thrown at his head and swiping the blade of his sword at the attacker. He does so enjoy watching Kyra fight. His men know better than to worry about trying to help her, as she needs none. On days where the prospect of slaughtering some weakling crew or other holds no appeal to the Heart Pirate captain, he will simply sit back and allow his magician to rid them of the annoyances. Law has observed her single-handedly butchering ships full of ruthless men with little more than a wave of her arm. Today Kyra has apparently opted for a more hands-on approach - judging by the way she has just sunk her fist into the chest of a Marine and ripped his heart out.

The Dark Doctor lazily dispatches a man who has failed to shoot him, musing for the umpteenth time on the irony of his magician's calling card. She started removing her opponents' hearts and disposing of the organs not long after they began a physical relationship. The first time Law watched her tear through an enemy crew, ripping chests open and squeezing hearts in her fists until they were nothing but blood pulp, it had taken every ounce of his considerable self control not to lay hands on her inappropriately in front of the men. Watching Kyra destroy those hearts had aroused him to a painful degree, and that effect has not weakened with time. Even now Law feels the beginnings of desire stir low in his belly, and he can't help but chuckle as he cuts a Marine in half with a swing of his sword, savoring the metallic tang of the man's blood as it splashes over his face. Funny the effect the Demon Witch has on him.

The fight is long and satisfying, all of the Heart Pirates bloody and tired but exhilarated by the end. The enemy is dead but for those the doctor scrambled; they lie in misshapen heaps and cry for help that will never come. Law orders scouts to explore the Marine ship with a gesture, barking instructions for the injured to report to him in the infirmary. The men are laughing, moving to his commands without thought and ribbing each other as they bask in their success. A great fight, a victory, and not one man killed from the Heart Pirates crew. Neil is shoved towards the sub by his buddies, demands that he get to cooking ringing through the air. The chef bitches and grumbles but disappears in search of the galley all the same. Law watches all of this with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He looks to the west, turning his face to let the rays of the setting sun wash over his skin.

What a perfect way to end the day.

Warm fingers brush at the blood on his face, bringing his attention to the woman standing delightfully close. She is coated in gore, the sleeveless top and baggy trousers she wears stained dark with the evidence of the battle. Blue eyes scan him carefully, searching for injuries that are not there. Were any to be found, soothing white energy would be introduced to his body, healing and correcting the imperfection until no trace remained. Law removes Kyra's hand from his face and weaves his fingers into her curly hair as he feathers his lips against her throat, teasing with contact against a tattoo of his Jolly Roger located on the side of her neck. He grins in pleasure as she shivers against him before quickly extracting herself. The grumpy expression on her face pulls a chuckle from within his chest. Hooking an arm around her waist, Law propels her along in the direction of the sub.

"You are in desperate need of a shower, my magician," he purrs. "What will poor Aaron say when he sees you in such a condition?"

"Oh, shut up. You're going to be an ass about that forever, aren't you? For the hundred-thousandth time, Law: I didn't know the kid was in the galley after that fight! It's not like I was trying to make him faint! That's more like something _you_ would pull. Why do you think I've been just teleporting to the shower after every one of these little shindigs?" She elbows him sharply in the side; Law retaliates by swooping down and nipping hard at that spot on her neck. She yelps in a most satisfying manner and he pulls away with a grin, tugging her to a stop just outside the galley when he hears the sound of a child's voice.

"Best use that teleportation now, Kyra."

And then he kisses her, the residual adrenaline fueling him on as he claims her mouth despite her startled attempt to retreat. It's instinct more than anything, as is proven when she offers no fight against Law's plundering tongue. Kyra has long since stopped trying to resist his advances; it is normal for her little hand to slip just under the hem on his hoodie to skim her fingers against his abs. Law growls his approval, feeling the last of his post-fight rush dwindle away.

"Take me to the infirmary," he murmurs against those too-addictive lips. "And then go get cleaned up."

She does not protest, and in short order the doctor is bandaging cuts and sewing up gashes in the sterile air of his medical ward. Few of his men were injured, and it takes no time at all before Law is moseying into his chamber as Kyra exits the bathroom, dressed in clean clothes and roughly toweling her hair into a manageable dampness. They do not speak as they pass one another, merely exchange a look which says all that needs addressing. Kyra will go to the galley to needle the cook who hates her while her captain cleanses himself of the of his latest victims' blood.

The pirate stands in his shower with head tilted back, enjoying the feel of the hot water trickling down his face. He thinks about Kyra's latest little side trip, going back to Amazon Lily a week ago in search of Fire Fist Ace. She had told Law upon returning that the Straw Hat Pirates were about to make their long-anticipated appearance in the New World. She had related to him the information Fire Fist provided on the notorious Blackbeard. Apparently the Yami-Yami no Mi user has risen to the ranks of the Yonkou, taking the place of Whitebeard in the balance of power. Law smiles grimly at the memory of Kyra's poorly suppressed fury as she told him this. If they ever do meet up with Blackbeard, the Dark Doctor has little doubt that his magician will go to the ends of her endurance to assure that the other man dies a most gruesome death. She has hinted to him numerous times in the past two years that she would quite appreciate his help in catching up to Teach, dropping promises left and right in futile attempts to convince Law to actively search for the man. For whatever reason, Kyra is hell-bent on being the one to kill Blackbeard, and her failure to wheedle Law's help from him has led to some truly spectacular brooding sessions that always amuse the surgeon to no end.

Too bad for her. If the Heart Pirates happen to cross paths with Blackbeard, Kyra can torture the man to her heart's content. Law sees no reason to go out of his way to find her quarry.

When the Surgeon of Death ambles into his galley a short time later, he smiles to see that his magician is sitting at the table with Sachi and Penguin on her left. All three of them have drinks in hand, and Kyra is keeping a close eye on the boy sitting down and across from her snuggling in Bepo's lap. Aaron is listening with rapt attention as the pirates regale him with embellished tales of their adventures since sailing out of North Blue, drinking in every word with wide-eyed innocence. Neil is running around the other side of the room, fiddling with bubbling pots on the stove and checking whatever treat he has in the oven tonight. Law takes his seat at the head of the table, propping his feet up and observing his crew with lazy eyes.

"Hey, Captain, Gable mentioned that we're about ten days from the next island," Sachi informs him cheerily, peering around Kyra to look at him. Law nods in acknowledgement at this news, filing it away as Kyra levitates a full mug of what looks to be beer into his hands. The crew no longer takes any notice of random objects floating through the air, and the various conversations around the table don't so much as blip.

Law catches Penguin's eye. "Take an inventory. We'll see what we can do about supplies once we dock."

"The guys put the loot from the Marines in the hold, Captain," his follower grunts over the rim of his grog. "Pretty good haul. Must've beat some luckless bastards not too long ago. Got some gold, shitload of belli, and some really old looking books in a language I ain't ever seen before."

"I'll take a look tomorrow."

Kyra says nothing, having apparently decided that her liquor is more fascinating than a conversation with her captain. Law grins, skimming a bare foot up her calve to get her attention. She huffs as though annoyed, blue eyes rising to face him. "What?"

"Have you seen the latest newspaper, or are the men still passing it around?"

Before Kyra can answer, the desired article is passed down the opposite side of the table until it reaches Law's hands. He gives it to his magician, watching her face as she scans the front page.

A brief look of something cold and furious flashes over her expression before she smooths her features to indifference, staring coolly at the picture of the newly-minted Rear Admiral.

Rafe Merrick.

The men have gone quiet, everyone having already read the article and leery of what her reaction might be. Law watches silently as Kyramouths the kind of words she'd mutilate the men for uttering around the boy. The poor newspaper is soon crumbled into a ball and thrown across the galley, smacking Neil in the back of the head as the Heart Pirate mage hunkers down in her chair with an ugly frown.

The men share a look before going back to previous conversations, the group around Aaron being twice as loud and rowdy in an effort to distract the kid while Kyra cools off. Everyone knows by now not to attempt speaking with the woman when she's in a mood. Used to be she would storm out to the deck, away from everyone else and out in the open so that she could let her magic run wild as she calmed herself. Now Kyra is more prone to staying close to the captain for reasons the crew isn't stupid enough to examine.

Law analyzes what he can of his magician's slumped figure, taking in the way her hands are fisted in her own hair so tightly the knuckles have gone white. Her leg is vibrating under his foot, twitching occasionally as if breaking out of the forced stillness the girl is attempting to impose on her body. He shoots a glance at Neil, wordlessly encouraging his cook to hurry with the food. A distraction of some kind is necessary, and since Kyra still tends to get snippy if Law hauls her into his lap in front of the crew she will have to make do with dinner.

The meal is more chaotic than usual, the crew going to lengths to act as though nothing is wrong. Kyra picks at her food without a word, refusing to look at Law and keeping her expression carefully composed. As soon as her plate has been cleaned of anything edible she is out of her chair and on the way to the hatch. The surgeon gives her a few minutes before casually rising and following after.

They have spoken of Merrick at length. Law had resorted to locking the two of them in his chamber and refusing to let his magician leave until she talked to him. The man had been intruding on their shared dreams, a transparent spector tormenting Kyra with words and deeds as the Dark Doctor futilely tried to cut him to pieces. Law had not been happy to have anyone else in those dreams, and had compelled Kyra to talk about him in the hopes that she would stop dwelling so much on the man. She had eventually caved, telling Law everything she knows about Rafe Merrick and going into gory details about the things he did to her in the past. The recitation went on for all of one night, a haunted look in her sea-blue eyes which infuriated the pirate captain.

He'd had quite a bit of fun chasing that look away.

Merrick has not returned to the dreams, and Law has not brought him up in conversation. Until today. That newspaper is a week old, having been delivered via News Gull while Kyra was off interrogating Fire Fist Ace. The men have been hiding it from her on purpose, knowing enough about her past to know that anything regarding Rafe Merrick will upset her to extreme proportions.

He comes to a stop in the open hatch, leaning against the doorway and regarding his magician through half-lidded eyes. She is sitting cross-legged on the deck, hands fisting in the material covering her knees and her back shaking in what is either suppressed sobs or restrained anger. Black energy uncoils out of her skin, moving up and around in a kind of miniature hurricane with Kyra as the eye. Law cannot see her face. He moves forward and circles in front of her, crouching down to her level.

"They promoted him," she says, and her voice is dead of all inflection. The tremors are therefore from rage, a much more satisfying reaction in Law's opinion. Tears are for the weak.

"So it would seem," he replies, ignoring the ever-growing cyclone of power that has expanded to include him. Kyra's magic is, after all, completely harmless where he is concerned.

She looks up, and the blackness of her eyes causes a stirring in the Supernova's gut. She is glorious in her fury, beautiful in her hatred as few women can pull off. She is animalistic, elemental, and Law wants to touch her.

In short order Kyra is nestled in the captain's lap, back against his chest with his nose in her hair. She is tense against him, attempting to bring her rage under control as Law savors the scent of her. The smell of steel is always stronger when his magician is in a fury. He caresses her sides through the tank top she wears, climbing up and down the ladder of her ribs and waiting patiently for the moment when she relaxes into him with a sigh, moving to lean her head back against his shoulder as the whirlwind around them slowly dissipates.

"Rear Admiral's pretty far up the chain of command, right?" Her voice has gone back to normal, and she sounds drained. Law murmurs an affirmative against the skin of her throat, nuzzling the ever-present bite mark under her tattoo.

"He's going to start being a problem again. He'll use the new position to try harder to find me, and it's common knowledge I'm part of your crew. We're going to get busy soon."

Law is less than concerned. "We're pirates, Kyra. We can handle ourselves, and you know Bepo would never let anything happen to the boy."

That's an understatement if ever he's uttered one. The cute and cuddly first mate has grown very attached to young Aaron, acting as his nanny and pillow for so long. The boy has actually become almost like the crew's mascot, often helping Neil with his cooking or keeping Gable company in the control room. No one on this ship will allow harm to come to the kid.

"I don't like the idea of the crew being in danger because of me," Kyra mutters.

Law chuckles, nipping lightly at the skin under his mouth. "You have no problem running after a _Yonkou_ and dragging us with you, but a lowly Rear Admiral is too dangerous for us? The men will be insulted."

Kyra tries to elbow him, failing because of his arms around her. "It's not funny, you bastard! And I wouldn't be dragging any of you anywhere if you'd be less of a jackass and give me permission to go find and kill Blackbeard on my own, but _noo-oo. _That would be nice, and Trafalgar Law doesn't do nice shit."

"I'm pleased that we agree," he replies, using a patronizing tone that he knows will annoy her. "And it changes nothing. You will not leave my ship without my permission. You are not going to pull some heroic bullshit by abandoning the crew so as to protect us from Merrick. You are not going to go looking for Teach on your own. Is that clear?"

There is a long pause before Kyra huffs in defeat. "Yeah. Crystal clear."

"Excellent. Are you in control of yourself?"

"Yes."

Law stands, drawing Kyra up with him and turning towards the hatch with an arm securely around her waist. "Then come back inside. Neil made one of his desserts tonight, and it would be a shame to miss out on it on a Rear Admiral's account."

Later, when the crew has retired for the night and Law is ready for sleep, he stands outside the door to the room across from his own and listens to his magician speak to the boy traveling with the Heart Pirates.

"Is - is he going to try to kill us, Kyra?"

"I won't let him near you, kid. Don't worry about him. You're safe with us. The whole crew will protect you; you know that, right?"

"B-but who's going to take care of you? That man... he r-really wanted to hurt you. I'm scared..."

"...Don't be. Nothing's going to happen to you. And... I think my captain's got my welfare covered, Aaron. If I need help, Law will be there. Don't worry; just go to sleep, okay?"

Later on Law does not comment on the way she clings to him as they lie together in his bed, sweaty and spent and waiting to drift into slumber. He runs his hand up and down her spine, fingering the knobs of her vertebrae while the other hand rubs gently at her scalp. Her brave facade is transparent to the Dark Doctor in this moment. Much as she denies it, much as she hates her own weakness, Kyra fears Merrick just as much as she loathes him. She is terrified of what might happen if the new Rear Admiral catches up to her.

Law is not. He looks forward to the day when he has the man whose initials are branded into his magician's back strapped to a table in his infirmary. His fingers ache to bury themselves in Merrick's innards, while his ears strain for the sound of Merrick's screams. His blood pumps faster at the mere thought of it.

Oh yes, the Surgeon of Death is very much looking forward to that day.

* * *

><p>Kyra gazes around the crowded hold in the belly of Law's submarine, eyes skimming over the piles of treasure as she follows her captain deeper into the room. This is one part of being a pirate that the sorceress still does not understand. Why would men who normally take whatever the hell they want without bothering to pay worry about hording gold and belli they don't need? She had brought this up in conversation at dinner once months ago; the crew just stared at her in shock, unable to fathom how she could ever utter such a ludicrous question. Law had simply laughed as though deeply amused.<p>

She isn't really sure why the Supernova has brought her down here. The man simply took her wrist after breakfast this morning and started pulling her along with him. He had released her at the ladder leading down to the hold, clearly intending that she follow him. Kyra does so, sidestepping what looks like some priceless rug and being careful not to bump into any of the precariously stacked chests full of stolen gold. She stops behind where Law has crouched down in front of a collection of dusty books, giving him a questioning look when he stands and turns to her with his customary grin missing in action. He holds out a thick volume, indicating that she should take it.

"What's this for?" Kyra asks hesitantly as she takes the weighty book in her hands. She realizes that these must be from that Navy ship they butchered yesterday. Law had been down here looking through the loot while she cooked breakfast, and there had been a strangely guarded look on his face all through the meal. Perhaps now he will provide an explanation.

No such luck.

"I want you to read it," is all Law says, hooking an arm around her waist and steering her back towards the ladder. Kyra is baffled, and looks at the book with some misgivings.

"Why?"

"You'll understand once you've looked at it. Find somewhere comfortable and get started. We'll talk this evening."

So it is that Kyra finds herself curled up on deck, back against the wall next to the hatch and book lying open in her lap. She is more confused than ever, as upon opening the tome she realizes that it is written in the ancient tongue of Veneficus. Indeed, the island is named within the first couple of paragraphs. But how in the hell did Law read it? Perhaps he simply recognized that word from long-ago discussions with her.

_...And the people washed up on the beach of an island. The land was one of natural beauty, lush with plant life and teeming with creatures the likes of which the shipwreck victims had never seen. It was as they traversed the strange paradise that they encountered The Divine. No other name has been gifted to this enity, said to be blinding in its beauty and strangeness. It is said that The Divine bore the face and body of a man, though it possessed features of such tanscendence any assumption of humanity was immediately discarded. The Divine spoke to them in a language they did not understand before realizing their ignorance and adapting to their native tongue. It bade them not to fear it, inviting them to join The Divine and warm themselves by a fire it created._

_An animal then came from the surrounding jungle to lie at the feet of their host, who put its hand upon the beast's head. Darkness flowed from its fingers, and the beast gave a shudder before going still. The people were fed off its flesh, and they found that it was good. The Divine spoke to them further, calling the land Veneficus and bidding its visitors make themselves welcome._

Kyra frowns down at the page, stuck on a certain sentence. _Darkness flowed from its fingers to sink into the beast._ Darkness? Like her own powers? She flips through the thick book, reading snatches here and there. She learns that this 'Divine' created homes for the people who had crashed on its domain, feeding and sheltering them, teaching them its language, caring for them while asking for nothing in return. They in turn were in awe of the thing, worshipping it like some kind of god. Over time more people would come to Veneficus, and each time The Divine would welcome them and entreat them to remain. At some point it made a gift of special powers to those of its new friends it felt most worthy, giving them the ability to do many strange things.

Decades passed and the people began to realize that The Divine whom they idolized did not age. Centuries went by and the people began to fear this creature who had so graciously allowed their ancestors to make homes for themselves on its island. This fear grew with each passing year until at last the islanders rebelled. Kyra reads all of this with avid attention, blind to the passage of time around her as she immerses herself in this history of her homeland.

_...And The Divine was cast down into the pit, defeated by the people of Veneficus who rose up against its never-ending rule. No resistance was offered by the creature, though it is said that The Divine wept at such betrayal. As the soil of its domain was brought thundering down upon it, the Divine cried out a curse upon the people whom it had nurtured and protected for so long._

_'You have forsaken me, one who has sheltered your families for generations! You have allowed your trust in me to be corrupted by fear! For this betrayal I decree that you shall be punished! One day a child will be born who shall be gifted with the true scope of my powers! It is this child who shall return the order of this land to its proper state, and they shall lift me up from my prison to take vengeance against your descendants! Regret to know that your lines will suffer for the mistakes of their criminal ancestors! There is nothing you can do to prevent it!'_

_And the people were filled with a terrible fear..._

By the time Kyra closes the heavy book, the sun is sitting low on the horizon and her stomach is growling its displeasure at a skipped meal. She runs her fingers over the cracked leather of the cover, brooding on all that she has read. There are stories on Veneficus about some kind of power source buried in the exact center of the island. Could this 'Divine' be that source? Is there a creature imprisoned like the one described herein, waiting for its prophesied liberator to come and free it? Where in the world did this book come from, anyway? There is no author listed on the cover or on any of the front pages; it goes right into the story from page one.

The tale has left a vile taste in her mouth. It sickens Kyra to think that her ancestors could have assaulted someone who nurtured and protected them out of a sense of misplaced fear. Why would it be so terrible that this thing had never aged? If they knew that it was not human, what did its age matter? She is disgusted with the people in this story, hoping rather desperately that it is not a true accounting of her home's history. Perhaps it is false. Perhaps it is merely an old legend.

So caught up in her thoughts is the sorceress that she does not register the presence of another until Law speaks from in front of her.

"Finished yet?"

Kyra flinches in surprise, eyes flying up from the cover of the book to her captain's silhouette against the sunset. She frowns, giving an absent nod in the affirmative before sliding her eyes to the left as she sinks back into her musings. Law moves to sit next to her, drawing her attention back to him by tugging the manuscript out of her hands.

"Bepo and I glanced through the rest of the books. They are all written in this language, and the name of your island is mentioned. What did this one say?"

The mage's brow furrows in thought as she speaks, staring emptily at the strange tome before relating what it contains. When she is finished Kyra runs her fingers over the leather-bound parchment. "I don't know if this book is bullshit or not. It would explain what the mysterious something is below the island that feeds power to its inhabitants." She shakes her head in disgust at the thought, tugging unhappily at the hat upon her curls as Law watches quietly. "I wonder where these came from. Kind of a weird coincidence for us to be the crew to end up with them, you know what I mean? Something about this just feels... off."

"A storybook about your home ending up on a Marine ship we just happened to sack? Yes, I would say that seems a little odd."

Kyra glares at the man, irritated at the unruffled smile she receives in return. She huffs before snatching the book back and clambering to her feet. "You're a bastard, Law. Have I told you that lately?"

"It's been a few days," he drawls, seeming supremely unconcerned as he also stands before moving to grasp her hips with tattooed fingers. She whacks him sharply on one wrist and moves to march towards the hatch when a firm tug draws her back.

"You want to return."

The brooding sorceress stops in her tracks, clutching the thick novel to her chest. Does she want to go back? After everything that happened to her on that damn island? Knowing that the shaman and Lihla will be waiting there for her? Does Kyra really want to put herself in such undeniable danger just because of some story? She doesn't even know if the tale is accurate. She lacks even the faintest clue as to where the hell these stupid books came from in the first place, or how they ended up on a Marine ship of all places. What if this is just another set-up orchestrated by Merrick, like the story about her mother anxiously waiting for her?

But... what if it's not just a tale told to entertain children?

What if it's true?

Kyra wants to know for sure.

"Yeah. I do. I want to go to Veneficus."

She hugs the book tighter to her hollow chest, glances over her shoulder at her captain for only a moment before stepping through the hatch and setting off to meet up with the rest of the guys for supper.

"I _need_ to go back."

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>When the black orb deposits Kyra and Jambarl on the soil of her home, the sorceress takes one look around and knows at once that something has changed dramatically. And not for the better.<p>

She is standing in the city's center, the hulking pirate waiting next to her as Law had ordered only moments before. The buildings around them should be spotless, perfect, richly built to denote the rank of those living within them. They should not look like the fractured ruins of a warzone with black scorch marks dotting their surfaces. They should not have enormous holes blown out of them, boulder-sized chunks of rubble strewn upon the ground. There is not a person in sight; the entire area appears completely deserted.

Obviously something has happened here since Kyra last visited.

She encases herself and her guard in a protective bubble for the sake of caution, not wanting the quiet Jambarl to get hurt because he has been instructed to keep company with her on this errand. They have appeared right outside of the building that clearly should be the shaman's home, despite the awesome amount of damage and the crumbling state of the place. Kyra knows that the mansion sits in the exact center of Veneficus - which, according to the book about the mysterious Divine, is where the creature is buried. She will have to enter the house, will need to descend into the dungeons in which she was tortured for those three hellish months.

The fear in her gut is no small twinge.

"This is the place," she informs Jambarl quietly, glancing over at him while trying to work up the courage to go forward. "We have to go inside. I want to get to the lowest point in the building, so we'll... we'll have to head for the dungeons. Stay close to me, okay? My shield should protect us from just about anybody we run into, but I don't want to take any chances."

Jambarl nods, moving closer until his hand can settle on her shoulder. He looks down at her from his considerable height, rough features softening slightly. "All right?"

The mage knows that he can feel her trembling, his long fingers gently squeezing to offer comfort. She shakes her head, tries to summon a smile for him and fails miserably. "Not really. Let's get this over with, yeah? I want to leave as soon as possible; I hate this damn place."

The massive fellow nods once more, following close behind her as Kyra steps towards the wrecked building. His hand does not retract from her person, and she is extremely grateful for the reassuring touch. Thank the gods she doesn't have to do this alone. And thanks too that Jambarl holds no grudge against her for almost killing him way back when this particular mess started. Apparently the former pirate captain could forgive fellow crewmates. Other people... well, let's just say any Tenryubito he met should not rely on the threat of an Admiral to save them.

The doors to the shaman's mansion are blasted to pieces, white rubble amongst black. The two pirates pick their way through the wreckage, senses on high alert for any possible danger. At the moment there does not seem to be any; the building feels empty, deserted. Dust lies in a thick layer over everything, and Kyra wonders how long ago the place was trashed. Who did this? Surely not any of the villagers, who all worship that damn shaman and would never even consider going against him. Was it Merrick? Is the damage around the city's center the proof of his ire at Kyra's escape from his clutches nearly two years ago? She cannot know for sure without someone to question, and as they descend into the bowels of the mansion proper, it becomes clear that there is no one here to interrogate.

The skeletons they find along the way are proof enough of that.

They are strewn haphazardly along the corridors, piles of bones dressed in the decaying uniforms of the Proeliator troops. Others wear the ragged remains of dresses; probably the shaman's household servants. Kyra does not pause. She very much doubts that it is within her ability to return a skeleton to full health, and even if it were she would not do it for these people. Not after everything they allowed to happen to her in this hellish palace.

She wonders if the shaman's bones are lying around here somewhere. If anyone in this damn building deserved to die, it was that decrepit old bastard.

The dungeons are pitch black, the torches set in brackets on the walls all burned out. Jambarl digs into his pocket and produces matches. Several minutes and much cursing later finds the pair edging cautiously forward, the flickering light of a flaming brand held high in the large man's hand to show them the way. The dank cells are all empty, the floor clear of debris. Apparently whatever fighting was done never came down this far. It looks exactly the same as it did the day Kyra escaped, minus the heavy coating of dust. She half expects Merrick to appear in the light's path to continue her torture as though no time has passed. The thought forces a shiver through her; Jambarl's grip on her shoulder tightens.

"What exactly are we looking for, Kyra?"

"Not sure," is the vague answer. Blue eyes scan the room, looking for any kind of clue that might point her in the right direction. Maybe a sign reading "Entrance to Divine's Burial Pit' or something of the sort. Since Fate hates her, it is no surprise when such help is not forthcoming. Moving into the center of the dungeons, her attention is caught and held by the appearance of a stone table.

Well, fuck. She could have gone the rest of her life without seeing that fucking thing again. The shackles once used to restrain her arms and feet are still there as well. For just a second, in the flickering firelight, Kyra can almost see herself strapped to that slab of rock. She is half-convinced she can feel Merrick's hands as he shoves his fingers through her skin to play with the bones of her ribs. The shaken sorceress takes an unconscious step away and collides with Jambarl, snapping her back to the present. She turns from that thrice-damned chunk of stone and tries to collect herself as her companion waits patiently with one warm hand still reassuringly firm on her shoulder.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all," he offers in his low voice, giving her another gentle squeeze. "Maybe we ought to just go back to the captain. Nobody would think less of you for not being able to handle returning to this place; we all saw what kind of condition you were in when you came back to the crew last time. You don't have to do this."

"No," Kyra croaks before giving herself a shake and clearing her throat. "No. I'm not leaving yet. I want to do this. Just... bear with me, okay? I'll try not to take too long."

Squaring her shoulders, the Demon Witch spins around and marches up to the stone slab. After only the barest of hesitations, she hoists herself up and sits upon the table, facing Jambarl and stiff as a body in rigor mortis. Nothing happens; no one appears out of thin air to grab her, Merrick does not materialize to torture her. There is only Jambarl in the dank chamber. Some of the tension drains out of her, and Kyra relaxes ever-so-slightly. "Well that was anticlimactic."

The most physically imposing of the Heart Pirates snorts his agreement. "So what now?"

She beckons for him to come closer. When he does so, Kyra manipulates her powers so that only Jambarl is covered in the protective encasing, which is hovering only inches from his skin. The big man gives her a most displeased look. "Captain Law is not going to like this, you know."

Kyra shrugs. "I don't care. He's not here right now, and I'm more worried about your welfare than my own. You can tell him it was my fault. Anyway, I'm going to see how far down I can push my magic to get a picture of what might or might not be under us. If some kind of amazing creature is down there and my prodding pisses it off, I want you protected. I'm going to ignore arguments," she adds as he opens his mouth to do just that. "I don't want you hurt because Law wanted me to have a babysitter. Just deal with it, Jambarl."

She doesn't wait for his reply. Kyra folds her legs up so that she is sitting cross legged on the stone slab and grips her knees tightly, closing her eyes to concentrate on what she wants to do. Slowly, carefully, the witch lets the power within her uncoil so that she can sink it into the floor. This is something Law has taught her, actually; her magic can be used to detect the presence of living things if she concentrates hard enough. The Dark Doctor suddenly had the idea over a year ago, and then proceeded to order her to practice as often as possible. It came in handy a few times, what with ever-present sea monsters seeing a weird yellow thing floating around and trying to eat it. Kyra had suggested once that perhaps this was an indicator that painting the submarine yellow might have been a bad idea; Law had told her very politely to shut up.

Now she extends her focus deeper and deeper into the island of Veneficus, waiting for some hint that this little trip hasn't been a pointless waste of time. For a long moment it seems as though her search will be just that: fruitless, as all that is below them are worms and dirt. Damn; Law's going to be all smug and superior if Kyra shows up empty-handed. She can already hear the mocking tone he will use as he teases her for chasing a bedtime story.

And then her magic hits a wall.

Kyra jerks, nearly tumbling off the cold table as the impact reverberates through her body. That shouldn't be happening; she's never physically felt it before when her power collided with something. She shouldn't feel like the idiot who just ran into a sliding glass door. What is that? A wall several _miles_ underground? The sorceress carefully extends her magic towards the obstruction, trying to get a picture of it.

**_LEAVE ME BE, HUMAN._**

This time Kyra really does fall off the table. Her head is screaming in protest, an unbearable pressure tearing at her mind as a voice speaks from within.

And it is _very_ angry.

**_YOU THINK TO TOY WITH ME, PATHETIC MORTAL? YOU WHOSE ANCESTORS DAMNED YOU WHEN THEY PLACED ME IN THIS PRISON? YOU OVERSTEP YOURSELF, HUMAN. LEAVE ME BE IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE._**

Kyra can hear a voice that might be her own shrieking in agony, is vaguely aware that Jambarl has hold of her and is shaking the sorceress repeatedly. This is as nothing compared to the all-consuming agony rising from below. She tries to bring defensive magic to her aid, tries to block off the presence that has taken control of her consciousness. These attempts are swatted aside like flies.

**_WHY DO YOU TRY TO FLEE? YOU WISHED TO PLAY WITH ME, YES? THEN PLAY, HUMAN! HAVE A TASTE OF THE SUFFERING THAT SHALL ONE DAY BE YOUR DUE! REAP THE REWARDS OF YOUR ANCESTORS' CHOICES! FEEL THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL, THE LONELINESS OF MILLINEA OF ISOLATION! SUFFER AS I HAVE SUFFERED!_**

Pain of a level never before reached by man or magic. Nothing can compare to this torture. Kyra gags on her screams, magic exploding out to go beating against the underground walls in a desperate bid to offer protection. Jambarl is yelling, the floor beneath them is quaking. Something rips inside her and suddenly every memory she possesses is racing behind her eyelids.

**_WHAT GENERATION OF SCUM ARE YOU, HUMAN? HAS THE DODDERING MALE AT LAST PASSED ON? YOU WOULD BE HIS OFFSPRING THEN? IT IS A PLEASURE TO CAUSE YOU PAIN, WOMAN. YOUR FATHER BOUGHT MY WRATH FOR ALL HIS LINE A LONG TIME AGO._**

Kyra is going to die. The thing inside her will tear everything apart until there is nothing left. It takes her memories and tosses them aside at will, flipping through the images of her life like a bored child with a picture book. Faces flash across her awareness to disappear a second later. Law; Aaron; the crew; Fire Fist Ace; Straw Hat Luffy; Lihla; the shaman; Merrick; Naomi. Kyra screams as the image of her mother's slack face hanging like a rubber mask in Merrick's hand freezes in the forefront of her mind. Gods, stop it, _stop it, **just fucking stop it!**_

Everything pauses.

_**You are not like the others.**_

Slowly, shaking with the aftereffects of the horrible experience she has just been subjected to, Kyra comes back to herself well enough to register that she is being held tightly against Jambarl's chest. They are on the floor of the shaman's dungeons, the lit torch sputtering at her left. Kyra's entire body feels as though she has just gotten her ass handed to her in a fight. Her eyesight is tinged red - there is blood coming from her tear ducts, as well as her nose and probably ears.

_**What is your name, little human? Speak and I shall hear you.**_

Kyra flinches, blurting out her name on command without a second thought if it will keep the thing from attacking again.

**_You are in the company of an outsider. Where is the one who calls himself shaman?_**

She has to swallow several times before trying to speak again, her voice trembling as much as the rest of her. "I-I... don't k-know. E-everybody's dead. I don't know h-how."

**_And what has led to the events of this day, human-Kyra? Why have you disturbed my slumber with your powers? Where do you come from, that you control such darkness while all usurpers of my domain may only command light?_**

"I'm from here," Kyra whispers hesitantly as Jambarl tightens his hold on her; she wonders for a moment if he can also hear this voice. "From Veneficus. I have the other powers, too. I... I read about you in a book. I wanted to see if the stories were true."

**_Stories? Is my suffering now used as a cause of entertainment? Did the traitors spread tales of their great victory over me? Did they confess how I mourned their choice? Have I been painted as a villain?_**

She is not given the opportunity to reply. The answer is yanked from her mind like an old band-aid. Through the renewed surge of pain she can feel the creature's satisfaction.

**_Adequate. You have said that you wished to see if those tales held truth. Now that you have received confirmation, what will you do, human-Kyra?_**

Hell if she knows. Kyra has no earthly idea what in Roger's name to do now. This... thing that speaks with her is frighteningly powerful. Just feeling its rage has put her in a state such as this, hardly able to twitch now that it has released her due to the lingering pain in what feels like every damn muscle in her body. What does it expect her to do? Let it out?

**_Do you not know what it is to be a prisoner as I am, human-Kyra? To face betrayal as I did? Will you leave me here to suffer alone for eternity?_**

Memories return as a result of this question. The shaman's 'disciplining' every time she made the smallest of mistakes as his apprentice. Sengoku handing her off to Merrick and his team. Spending all those years locked up in the labs. The three months in this very chamber enduring unspeakable horrors.

...Well, shit.

"What do you want me to do?"

**_Stand, human-Kyra, and place yourself once more atop my tomb._**

The Demon Witch slowly climbs to her feet, knees still shaking like those of a newborn animal. Jambarl rises with her, ready to act as support should it be needed. She seats herself once more upon the stone slab, crossing her legs again and waiting to see what will happen next.

**_Brace yourself, little one._**

And then Kyra is falling into darkness.

* * *

><p>Kyra's heart is fluttering wildly in his hands.<p>

Trafalgar Law sits alone in his room, hat on the desk in front of him and a pensive frown on his face. In his hands he holds the heart of his magician. The woman herself is currently absent, as he has allowed her to return to her home island in the company of his strongest fighter. Kyra has been most curious for the past week to see if those stories of some creature buried alive on her island were true.

Judging by her heart rate, the Dark Doctor thinks it safe to assume she has found something.

He grips the pulsing organ lightly, pondering the situation. Perhaps allowing Kyra to go back to Veneficus was a mistake. She had assured him that the chances of Rear Admiral Merrick still being present on the island are slim to none. She had sworn that no one else she might run into will give her any trouble if she needs to kill them. Law has sent Jambarl with her as added insurance, brushing off her adamant protests. Kyra is a Heart Pirate, and Heart Pirates do not go into enemy territory alone.

The Surgeon of Death strokes gentle fingers over his magician's heart and tries to ignore the uneasy tension in his gut. He would have liked to go with Kyra himself, but had been loath to leave the rest of the crew waiting for him in this dangerous ocean. He is therefore stuck here waiting for her to return, sitting idly while his woman puts herself in danger.

Law _detests_ waiting.

* * *

><p>Everything around her is pitch black, and Kyra is terrified.<p>

_**Calm yourself, human-Kyra. I shall not harm you.**_

Yeah, sure. That's real assuring coming from the thing that just tore her mind apart and then put it back together. She can't see a damn thing, it is extremely difficult to breathe, and she has been separated from Jambarl. This is just fucking fantastic.

Something - are those _feathers?_ - brushes against her arm. The sorceress jerks backwards, wrapping dark magic around her in a close shield as she shies away from whatever that is. It follows, going right through her protection in a way only Law should be able to pull off, softness wiping gently over her face before moving down. More of the feathery things insert themselves behind her back, what feels like a freaking _wing_ curling around to draw her forward.

**_Come closer, little one. Let me view you._**

Kyra immediately starts to struggle, attempting to duck under the limb pushing her and flinging both arms out in search of a wall. Her fingers hit moist soil, reminding the mage that she is underground. Fuck. How is she going to get the hell out of here? She does not have time to dwell on this question, as something is pressing up against her back and what she's positive is a _snout_ is currently sniffing her hair.

_**You are young for a human. Your memories led me to believe that you had seen more years. You have known much suffering, human-Kyra. It has stunted your control of these powers. I will rectify this matter.**_

What the hell does that mean? Kyra tries to shrink further away from the thing, tries to block its voice from her mind.

_**Why is the fear so strong in you? I have said that you need not expect further harm from me. Why did you come here, human-Kyra? Was it not your intention to free me if your storybooks were correct? Why then do you tremble so? It is your purpose to free me, as I told those who placed me in this coffin of earth and fear so long ago. You will guide me to the light of the sun, little one, and I shall reap my vengeance at long last.**_

_One day a child will be born who shall be gifted with the true scope of my powers! It is this child who shall return the order of this land to its proper state, and they shall lift me up from my prison to take vengeance against your descendants!_

No... **_fucking..._** way.

Those feather things touch her all over, pushing gently until her spine connects with something warm and... furry. It rumbles against her, the snout in her hair still sniffing away as though her scent is some intoxicating fragrance.

**_Guide me, Kyra._**

It's dropped the human part.

**_Guide me to light and warmth and freedom. Free me, and I shall gift you with your dreams. I shall lay the world at your feet._ _Only free me, and all shall be yours, little one._**

"H-how... how the hell do I guide you anywhere?" the overwhelmed sorceress croaks, holding perfectly still as the soft things brush ever-so-lightly over her face and torso. "How do we get out of here? What do you expect me to do?"

**_Only think, little mortal. Think of freedom. Think of the outside_** **_world. Think of where I long to be. I shall do the rest._**

Okay... that doesn't sound too difficult. Kyra concentrates on the dungeons she has just recently vacated, thinks of Jambarl's quiet support and comforting presence. She remembers the chill of the stone slab against her hands, the dank stench of the air in her nostrils.

**_That will do. Prepare yourself, Kyra._**

A whirl of crushing pressure, soft feathers, an explosion of light, and Kyra finds herself sprawled out on top of Jambarl. The big man curses wildly as she scrambles off of him, whipping her head around in search of the thing that has come here with her. Blue eyes land on the destroyed rock table and every breath of air in her lungs evaporates.

How in the name of all the gods had her ancestors considered this..._ cre__ature_** _human?_** Or _beautiful?_

The... thing crouches in the rubble of the table, gigantic wings of deepest black tucked close to its back. Its legs are akin to those of a gorilla, covered in fur of multiple colors ranging from light red to sky blue to deep brown. Its torso is hidden beneath yet more fur of the purest white, while its arms and hands are composed of glittering silver scales like the flesh of a lizard. Lethally sharp claws cap each finger, and Kyra is abruptly thankful that those appendages have yet to touch her. A tail made up of alternating patches of fur and scales is wrapped loosely around one leg, the tip flickering slightly.

But it is the head that terrifies the Heart Pirates' magician more than anything else. It isn't the canine-like snout full of razor-sharp fangs, or the pointed green ears that swivel like a feline's. It's the eyes. Green orbs that stare directly at her from that hodgepodge collection of animalistic features.

The eyes of the Divine are human.

She throws up a shield to protect herself and her comrade before she remembers the fact that this thing can bypass her magic. There is no protection from it but to flee. She reaches over to grab Jambarl and get them the hell out of there, only to freezes when a cold nose is suddenly pressed into her cheek.

**_Thank you, Kyra. You have freed me. Now at long last I will to extract my revenge. You will accompany me._**

Fuck, no, Kyra isn't going **_anywhere_** with this freak!

Its arms are abruptly embracing her, pressing the sorceress against its fur-covered chest and standing tall. Kyra thrashes about frantically in its hold, Jambarl jumping to his feet and lunging towards them. He bounces off of thin air with his fingers mere inches from grabbing her and is thrown across the room to bash against a wall, sliding down to the floor in a heap. He does not rise again.

**_The outsider will remain here. He has no business in my vengeance. Hold tight to me, little one. We shall fly._**

"Let go of me!" Kyra shouts, skin crawling from this monster's extreme proximity. "Get the fuck away from me! Let go! _Let go!"_

The Divine actually pauses, its grip loosening significantly_. **You are afraid? **_She can feel it rummaging around in her mind, replaying the last few minutes through her eyes._** My appearance is not pleasing to you? I shall rectify the issue.**_

She is set back on her feet and released. Immediately Kyra hurtles across the room, throwing herself into a protective crouch in front of Jambarl's unconscious form. She can hear the pirate breathing, thank the gods, he's at least still alive. She covers her shaking hands with magic, ready to fight to the death to keep that _thing_ across from her away from her crewmate. The creature does not seem the least bit offended. It begins to glow as though lit from within, the light becoming more and more intense until Kyra has to close her eyes to keep from being blinded. She ducks her head and waits, tense and afraid, wondering what the Divine will do if she tries to teleport out of here again.

"Gaze upon me now, Kyra. My features will be most pleasing, I assure you. I have no wish to frighten you. You have freed me; I shall bring you great pleasure in thanks." It takes a moment before the sorceress realizes that the voice is no long inside her head, but rather in the air of the dungeons. The monster is actually speaking to her. Kyra shifts nervously before hesitantly cracking open one eye and risking a glance.

She immediately wishes she hadn't.

A man is standing proudly where the Divine had been crouching seconds before. He is bare but for a length of white cloth wrapped around his hips to preserve his modesty. His skin is darker than any Kyra can ever remember seeing, like the chocolate Neil uses occasionally in his fancy desserts. He is beautiful in the most primal sense of the word, his body begging to be touched even as it warns of extreme danger to any foolish enough to get too close. Those impossibly dark wings are spread wide like a bird preening for attention. His face is perfection, every inch of it formed to a godlike cast. He smiles at her, revealing even rows of perfect white teeth.

Kyra thinks this form even more terrible than the last, simply because it draws her to the man-not-a-man as though they were a pair of magnets. It is a physical and mental struggle not to go to him. She reaches back and grabs hold of one of Jambarl's limp arms, horrified by her body's urge to touch the Divine.

"You are frightened still?" That flawless head tips to the side in evident confusion. "Why do you cower away from me? Come to me, little one. Let your fingers explore my flesh as they please. You have nothing to fear. I will not allow harm to befall you, mortal child. Your enemies shall be my own from this day forth. I shall present their hearts to you as a gesture of my gratitude and affection. I shall take you to my breast and teach you the feelings of pleasure. Once I have cleansed this island, I shall give it to you as a gift. You will want for nothing under my care, that I promise you."

He moves towards the, slowly crossing the room until he kneels in front of her and lifts a perfect hand to touch her cheek. Kyra is frozen on the spot, fingers digging into Jambarl's arm so that she does not reach out in automatic response, trying desperately to work up the wherewithal to force her magic to get them out of here. She wants Law. She wants him _now._

One powerful arm goes around her waist, gently tugging her unresisting form into the creature's muscular chest. Warm fingers pry free the death-grip on her comatose crewmate before the magnificent being tenderly slides his other arm under her knees and stands, cradling Kyra like a newlywed bride. The girl's hands are instantly bunched in the fabric of her shirt, as she absolutely refuses to allow them to caress the flawless expanse of skin hovering so close. She tries to find her voice, to demand the Divine release her to leave safely with Jambarl right this instant. No sound escapes her parted lips as a gentle kiss is pressed to her forehead.

"I shall hold you secure, Kyra. Do not fear. Enjoy the experience of flight."

And with that they are airborne.

Fear leaps into Kyra's gut - they're going to hit the fucking ceiling! Shit, why isn't he stopping! They're going to crash, they're going to -!

They pass through the stone into the next level of the house, phasing through floors on their way to the surface like air brushing through fabric. In no time at all the Divine is flying out of the wrecked doors of the shaman's mansion and hovering in the air over the city's center, beating his powerful wings lazily to keep them aloft. Two more beats and he lowers his feet to the ground, folding those onyx wings to his back and gently setting Kyra down. She is shaking, her legs buckling immediately to collapse none-too-gently on her behind. The creature looks down at this, a rather indulgent expression dancing upon his features.

"You will learn to enjoy it, little one. But for now there is business to attend to."

The Divine steps past her, head moving from side to side very slowly as he takes in the view. The center is just as deserted as it had been when Kyra and Jambarl arrived, and the liberated entity cocks his head to the side once more.

"They believe hiding will save them," he informs Kyra without looking at her, his wings once again snapping out to their full length. "They think to _avoid_ the punishment that is their due! **_FOOLS!"_**

The air thickens dramatically as waves of pitch black magic burst from the Divine, shooting out to blanket everything within sight. He throws his arms wide as well, bellowing in the ancient language as more and more power pours out of him before Kyra's petrified eyes.

**_"ADEO MIHI, MISELLUS HUMANUS! EXORIOR QUOD SUSCIPIO ULTIO ULTIONIS VOS HEREDITAS EX VESTRI PRODITOR PROIORES!" _** the creature roars.

_Come to me, pathetic humans! Come forth and receive the punishment you inherited from your traitorous forefathers!_

Kyra can do nothing but watch, open-mouthed with shock, as bodies begin floating through the air towards them, pulled from whatever meager shelter they previously sought. The islanders are screaming, terrified at this turn of events, calling out to each other frantically as they rush ever closer to the awesome being standing straight and proud in the ruins of the city center. Men, women, children; old and young; sick and healthy; rich and poor. In due time every single living native on the island has been deposited at the feet of the Divine.

He speaks to them, using the common tongue and easily making his voice heard over the screams and sobs of the terrified mob.

"_**YOU, THE DESCENDENTS OF THOSE WHO BETRAYED ME, SHALL NOW PAY THE BLOOD THAT IS OWED! DIE, AND KNOW AS YOU ENTER THE AFTERLIFE THAT THE ACTIONS OF YOUR ANCESTORS ARE TO BLAME FOR YOUR SUFFERING!"**_

Right then the world explodes into screams of agony and a hot shower of blood. Kyra curls in on herself, hides her face in her knees and smashes both palms over her ears in a useless attempt to stop the sounds. Oh gods, what has she done? What manner of thing has she unleashed on the earth?

Hands touch her, drawing the disbelieving pirate up and pressing her back against a slick chest. Her arms are grasped at the elbows and tugged down, allowing the blood-curling screams that rend the air around her full voice.

"Why do you hide, little one? Revel in their suffering. These scum allowed your childhood to be one of pain and humiliation. They would relish your death were your positions reversed. Do not pity them. Scorn them; drink their pain and enjoy its flavor."

"KYRA! KYRA, PLEASE!"

Her eyes snap open at the sound of that voice, scanning the writhing mass of bodies in search of the source.

"PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! SAVE US! WE'RE YOUR FAMILY! HELP US!"

Jericho. Her cousin, somewhere out there in the throng of screaming people, possibly with her uncle, dying. This living force of vengeance holding her so tenderly is killing the last of her family.

"Your family, is it? Do you wish to see them before they perish, little one? I shall bring them to you. You may kill them yourself in retribution for their betrayal."

How does he know about that? He must have seen it in the memories when he was rifling through her brain earlier. She has no more time to wonder; two figures are rising up out of the mob and floating towards them.

Oh, gods.

Her uncle Malachi is little more than an empty shell - Kyra can see this with one glance into his empty brown eyes. He is horribly thin, looking much as she did after those three months of captivity in the building behind her. He gazes back at her blankly, showing no reaction to their impromptu reunion or the terrible screams from those dying at his back.

Jericho is another matter altogether. He thrashes about madly in midair, reaching out in a vain attempt to grab her. His eyes are wild, spittle flying from his mouth as he screams at her.

"SAVE US! DON'T LET HIM KILL US, PLEASE! WE'RE YOUR FAMILY!"

"Ah, yes," the Divine purrs, his muscular arms tightening slightly around her as he whispers in her ear. "The cousin who sold you to your enemies. I can see into his mind, little Kyra. He despises you. He and his father returned to this place to liberate you and the mother you love so much, only to find her alone with no idea where you could be found. They were dragged before that disgusting fool who dubbed himself a shaman, and when your mother was killed in front of him he wished that it was you who was dying instead. They took his father as insurance for his cooperation and sent him off to find you. It infuriates him that you survived the torture heaped upon you by the shaman and the outsider. He would kill you himself were he able. He is no family to you, little one. I will be your family now."

Kyra's mind is reeling, trying to take in all that the creature is telling her. Jericho hates her. He watched her mother die. He wants Kyra dead. She looks at her cousin, holds his gaze with her own, silently begging him to tell her that the Divine is lying.

He does not.

"SHE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!" he bellows furiously, screaming into her face with hate plain in his eyes. "AND WHERE WERE YOU WHEN WE ALL NEEDED YOU? YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE FOR US! IT'S YOUR FAULT MY DAD'S LIKE THIS! THAT THING'S RIGHT, YOU FUCKING BITCH! I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!"

Blood suddenly floods from Jericho's mouth, flecking Kyra's cheeks owing to how close they are. Her eyes widen as her cousin begins to choke on the scarlet liquid, his hands clawing frantically at his throat as the mage is gently pulled backwards several steps.

"He will suffer as is his due, both in inheritance for his ancestors' treachery and his own betrayal of you. His death will be slow and painful, Kyra, that I promise you."

She can't watch this. She can't take any more. She wants it all to just stop. Where the fuck is Law when she needs him? She watches a child's skin peel itself from his body out of the corner of her eye and tries hard not to vomit. She wants out of here. Kyra jerks out of the monster's gentle hold and spins around him, sprinting towards the decimated mansion in search of Jambarl.

They're getting the hell off of this island, _now._

**_Where are you going, little one? You would leave me?_**

Kyra ignores the voice, racing down the stairs one level at a time, desperate to get away.

**_You may do so if you wish. I will find you shortly. Know that you have my eternal gratitude, Kyra. The world is yours for the asking. I am as your slave._**

She doesn't want a fucking slave. She'd be thrilled never to see that goddamn _thing_ ever again. Kyra jumps the last ten steps down to the dungeon and bolts across the length of the room, where Jambarl is stirring feebly from his crumpled position next to the wall. She wastes no time with words, just grabs hold of the large pirate and teleports them back to Law's sub, the echo of the Divine's parting words reverberating in her mind.

_**Goodbye for now, little one. I look forward to our next meeting. Await me in your dreams.**_

* * *

><p>Law looks up sharply as the door to his bedroom bursts open, ready to reprimand whichever of his men has dared to enter without knocking. His words die in his throat at the sight of a blood-soaked Kyra dragging the much-large Jambarl after her, an expression of absolute terror stamped across her face. He is up and at her side in an instant, not prepared when she all but collapses into him and begins to cry. Shocked, the Surgeon of Death switches his gaze over to Jambarl where the fighter leans heavily against the doorframe.<p>

"What happened?" he demands, grip on his magician tightening at the glazed look in his subordinate's eyes. Jambarl slowly shakes his head as Bepo rushes in, barely catching the quasi-giant as he abruptly pitches to the side.

"Dunno, Captain," he slurrs out, his mouth apparently not wanting to cooperate. "Got thrown 'gainst a wall. Knocked out."

Which probably means he has a concussion. Law will have to monitor him, keep him in the infirmary and make sure he doesn't fall asleep. He lowers his eyes to the shaking female trying to crawl her way into his chest cavity and gives her a light shake.

"Kyra," the surgeon calls sternly, waiting until she flinches and meets his gaze before continuing. There is dried blood under her eyes and ears, fresh blood all over her clothing and hair. "Are you hurt? Is any of this blood yours?"

She shakes her head, hands scrabbling at the fabric of his hoodie. She is trembling violently, her blue eyes wide and frightened. Law keeps hold of her biceps, locking their gazes locked so that she will focus on him. "Where did it come from? What happened to Jambarl?"

"It - it wanted him to stay out of the way," his magician blurts out, speaking so fast Law can barely distinguish individual words. "It slaughtered them all. All of the islanders. They're all dead, it killed them all right in front of me. It wanted me to watch, it thought I'd enjoy it. It wants to thank me."

"What is _it?"_ Law demands calmly, moving one hand up to her neck and feeling her pulse. It is pounding much too fast, her adrenaline well above the norm. "Why does it want to thank you?"

Tears are sliding down her face, mixing with the blood and dripping off of her chin to further stain her ruined shirt. "The Divine. From the books. It's real."

"And you found it?" he guesses, wiping at the scarlet tears with his thumb. "You set it free?"

"Yeah," is the chocked response. Kyra suddenly lurches forward, burying her head in his chest as she shakes with sobs. "Oh fuck, Law, I let that thing out! It killed everybody! I watched it, I watched them die!"

The Dark Doctor could honestly care less about the dead islanders. His magician is safe and unharmed. Jambarl looks like he will be all right after a short observation period. That is all that concerns him, except -

"Where is this creature now?"

For a long moment Kyra does not answer. Law is just about to demand a reply when he hears her voice, low and watery and absolutely terrified.

"It said it would find me later. It's still on the island. It's going to come looking for me. It said it wants to show its gratitude."

Shit. That could be a problem. If this thing is strong enough to overcome Jambarl so easily and frightening enough to reduce his magician to such a state, then the peril it represents could make everything seen so far in the New World seem like a child's birthday party.

What a fine kettle of fish Kyra has dumped them all into this time.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

* * *

><p>It is quite late; the rest of the crew has retired for the night, and Trafalgar Law is standing in the galley in front of Kyra's hunched figure. The Supernova keeps a scowl on his face, but at the moment he is too irritated to care about his facial expression. Law is becoming very, very annoyed with his magician's behavior.<p>

"This has gone on long enough," he informs her calmly, reaching down and taking her by the elbow. "Time to sleep. Come to bed."

Kyra does not even deign to verbally answer him. She simply shakes her head and makes a weak attempt to free her arm. The Dark Doctor's grip tightens significantly.

"That was not a request. Come to bed. Now."

The girl looks at him, a wild and mutinous gleam in her blue eyes. In the three nights that have passed since Law allowed his magician to go back to her home island, Kyra has continued to refuse sleep. As far as anyone knows, she spends each night holed up here in the galley, wedged into a corner just like now. She refuses to give him an explanation and has yet to answer most of his questions about what exactly happened on Veneficus. Thanks to Jambarl he has an account of everything up until the big man was knocked out, but afterwards is still irritatingly vague. Law wants his answers. He wants Kyra to stop acting like something is going to jump out and kill her at any moment.

And, quite frankly, he is fed up with sleeping alone.

"You can stand up and walk to our room yourself, or I will drug you and take you there anyway."

"Drug me and I'll ditch your damn crew, _Captain."_

His eyes narrow at the mocking quality of that last word. The surgeon is sure that is simply an empty threat, as leaving the crew would mean leaving the boy and the closest thing she has to a family now. Even if her magic will allow it, such an act would not break their soul bond. It would achieve nothing, and Kyra is as much aware of that as he is.

Law crouches down to her level, still keeping a firm grip on her arm as he examines the woman's exhausted face. "Why are you being needlessly stubborn?" he demands quietly. "You are plainly tired. You need sleep. The bed would be a much more comfortable resting place than the floor in here."

"I don't want to sleep," Kyra snarls, trying once again to yank free. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

Law would take issue with that, but the tone is more a suggestion than an order. He brushes it off. "Why don't you want to sleep?"

She doesn't answer him at first. The Surgeon of Death waits patiently, moving his hand down until he can play lightly with her fingers while his magician stares mulishly at the floor. She opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again.

"It said to wait for it in my dreams. I don't... want to see it again. I don't ever want to see it again."

Ah. "You're talking about this Divine you freed?"

Kyra nods, moving her fingers to squeeze his own. "You didn't see that thing. You didn't see what it did to those people. You didn't feel the power coming off of it. It's... just... fuck."

Law watches her flounder for the proper words for a moment before speaking. "Show me."

His magician's hold on his hand tightens. She does not look up at him, does not move to comply. Her mouth closes and presses into a thin line. The obstinate set to her jaw makes Law grin. He moves closer, wraps his arm around Kyra's waist and pulls her into his chest. She is unsurprisingly tense against him as he stands and loops his free arm under her knees. The pirate carries her toward their room and places her on the bed, shucking his clothing and slipping on his favored lounge pants before crawling in next to her. Strong fingers stroke through unruly curls with care as the other hand presents the girl with a tiny syringe full of a faintly amber liquid.

"Do I need to use this, or are you going to be a good girl and go to sleep?" Law teases gently, watching her face closely as she stares at the miniscule needle. Kyra shudders against him, burying her face in his bare chest as old fears rise to the surface.

"I can't." The words are so soft that his sensitive hearing only just picks them out of the silence of his chamber. Law carefully uses the fingers in Kyra's hair to pull her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze in the dark room. Only the moonlight coming through the windows illuminates her features, casting shadows that make the blue of her eyes spark more fiercely. He draws her up his body, skimming his lips over her throat until he finds that spot he most favors. A lingering kiss is pressed there as he flips them, hovering over her pliant body and taking a moment to once again enjoy the sight of her underneath him.

There is no fight, no struggle as the doctor carefully slips the needle into a vein at the elbow. One small hand is wrapped tightly around his unoccupied wrist, the tremors threatening to break from Kyra's control transmitting through that touch.

"I don't want to see it," she whispers as the syringe is discarded. Law smiles slightly, trailing ever-curious fingers up her arm to her throat to her face. He traces the outline of her quivering lips, feathers touches over smooth cheeks and closed eyelids. He pauses to use his thumb to smooth the crease from the middle of her forehead before twining his digits in her hair and moving to lie at her side.

"I do," the pirate captain counters as his magician gropes for him in the dark, one hand curling around his side to dig her fingertips into his back. "So I am going to pull rank on you, my magician. Do forgive me, won't you?"

"Jackass," Kyra breathes, her eyes already closing under the influence of the sedative. She is asleep soon after and a quick self-administration of the same drug allows him to follow her in a timely manner.

The next thing Law knows he is in a dank chamber lit by a flickering light source that he can't seem to pinpoint. Empty cells line the walls while the dancing light shows an impressive coating of dust on most everything but a stone table directly in front of him. Kyra is sitting on this surface in a cross-legged position, gripping her knees tightly with an uneasy expression on her face.

"These are the dungeons where I was tortured by Merrick and the shaman. The Divine was sealed underneath this slab."

Law cocks his head to the side and studies her, a question nagging at him. "How did you get it out of its prison? Actually, how did you return to the island in the first place? If I remember correctly, you made it sound like the only reason you were able to go back last time was due to your cousin acting as guide."

Kyra's brow furrows in thought. "I think... I think my magic was trying to protect me. I've tried in the past to go back to Veneficus, to reach my mother. I always ended up getting dumped in the ocean. I don't think my powers wanted me to because of the shaman. With Jericho accompanying me, I guess the magic just kind of gave up on keeping me away from there."

Law nods his understanding. "And the Divine? How did you free it?"

"I have no idea. I tried that thing you always make me practice, to see if there was really anything buried down there in the first place. The damn monster just about tore my brain to pieces, thinking I was that bastard shaman come to toy with it. Once it realized I wasn't, it raided my memories until it decided I wasn't a threat and then told me to sit on this table so I could free it."

The captain of the Heart Pirates approaches his magician, putting his hands on the cold surface of the slab to either side of her and leaning in. "Go on."

Kyra sighs, letting her head fall forward so that it rests on his shoulder as she continues her betrays no emotion throughout. It is only when coming to the part about the slaughter of the islanders that a glimmer of fear leaks through. "Jericho was there. It brought him out of the crowd and killed him right in front of me, along with the zombie that used to be my uncle."

Law frowns, disappointed. _He_ had wanted to kill that smug little shit. Now this Divine creature has robbed him of any future opportunities to do so.

Damn it.

Kyra does not seem to notice his frustration. "It said I could leave if I wanted, that it was eternally grateful and that it would come find me soon. It said to look for it in my dreams. I ran back to the dungeons to grab Jambarl and got us back to your sub."

"And you have refused to sleep for fear of this Divine invading your dreams," the surgeon concludes.

"Yeah."

He leans against the table beside her, noticing how even in this dream world Kyra is trembling. "Why are you so afraid of it? If it is indeed grateful to you for freeing it, I doubt it plans to hurt you. It might actually be useful to us."

While his magician gives him a look that clearly indicates he is insane, Law is thinking of all the things this creature could do for him and his crew. It could take them straight to One Piece. It could deliver Rear Admiral Merrick - possibly stripped of all strength so as not to be a threat - directly into their hands. Power, riches, the title of Pirate King, and his magician's long-awaited revenge; so many things that the Divine might be able to give them.

Kyra shudders violently, letting go of her knees to grab his biceps and pressing her head harder against his chest. It is obvious that she does not share Law's enthusiasm for the idea, even before she opens her mouth and whispers, " I don't want it anywhere near you, or Aaron, or the crew. I can't protect you from it if it finds us. It could kill us all and there's not a damn thing I could do about it."

The pirate moves his hands to grasp the woman's thighs, squeezing them until she hisses at the pressure. "I do believe that you have developed something of a savior complex if all you ever do is worry about protecting us. It really isn't healthy, my dear magician. Nor are the men completely helpless."

The girl tenses in anger right before her head snaps up so that she can glare murderously at him. "That's not the-!"

Her words abruptly cut off as she catches sight of something over Law's shoulder. Instantly the surgeon finds himself staring at the opposite wall, Kyra having slipped quickly around him. He can feel the girl pressing up against his back, trembling all over, and he knows the cause even before he turns to place calming hands on her shoulders.

The Divine is with them.

"Hello again, little one."

Kyra had not been exaggerating about this creature's appeal in this particular form. It is a flawless specimen of human male, the type of perfection that makes the Dark Doctor's hands itch to find a scalpel with which to give that unmarred skin a few scars. The wings folded behind its back are so dark they very nearly blend in with the shadows of the chamber. Piercing green eyes that look decidedly human are gazing at Law's magician with such naked emotion the surgeon would like to gouge those orbs out of its head to get rid of that look.

Except he is currently having quite a bit of difficulty breathing, much less crossing the room to deal bodily harm to what is undoubtedly the source of the pressure trying to crush Law's lungs.

"You have avoided me, little one. Why?" Those transcendent features focus on the pirate captain. "Has this human kept you from your dreams? I will rid us of him."

Kyra's heroic impulses actually come in handy as she swiftly springs to his defense. "No! Don't you dare hurt him! He's my soul mate, don't kill him!"

The pressure suffocating him vanishes. Law realizes that Kyra has her hands pressed to his chest, worried eyes on his face as he gasps for breath. He gives her a small grin, amused as always that she actually cares enough to be worried in the first place. Teasing her about it will have to wait; for now the being that has just attempted to kill him is standing several feet away, staring apologetically at his woman.

"Perhaps you should introduce us, my magician," Law suggests calmly, indicating the Divine with a tilt of his head. Kyra reluctantly turns back to the creature, staying close to him with hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Like I said, he's my soul mate. We're bonded. His name is Trafalgar Law; he's my captain. A pirate captain." Her voice is rather venomous as she adds, "Don't you ever hurt him again. You stay the hell away from him, and our crew."

The Divine smiles indulgently; Law starts a mental countdown to how long before Kyra snarls another threat before the being even says another word. "Of course. Those who are precious to you are now mine to protect. No harm shall come to your mate or any whom you call a friend." Those bright eyes, filled with more knowledge than should be possible in such a youthful face, move to the surgeon even as Kyra bristles. "My apologies, human. I was not aware that my savior had a mate."

Law is fairly certain the Divine could really care less whether he forgives it or not. There is something hostile in those eyes, as though this creature has already pegged him as an enemy and has resolved that its opinion will not be changed. Any idea of using it for his own gain is instantly discarded; it will not be helping him no matter what he asks of it. He smiles lazily, wrapping his arms loosely around his magician. "No harm done, friend. Is there any particular reason you've decided to invade our shared dreams this fine evening?"

"I merely wished to see you again, Kyra." All of the Divine's attention is immediately focused once more on the girl in Law's embrace, the threat gone and only softness visible on that perfect face. "My domain has been cleansed. It is yours, the gift I promised to you. Remember that you need only ask, and anything you desire shall be yours. If you do not wish for me to approach your... companions, you need only think your request and I shall hear you."

Kyra shakes as though she has just been dunked in a bucket of ice, straining forward while simultaneously reaching back to grab hold of Law's arms hard enough to bruise. He tightens his hold while putting his mouth next to her ear. "I have you," Law whispers, not pleased with this sudden turn of events. "Calm down." Louder, so that their unwanted guest can hear, "If that's all, perhaps you would be so kind as to leave. Your presence is making my magician uncomfortable."

As if to back up his statement, Kyra rotates around to bury her face in his chest once again. She does not see the look which passes over the Divine's face upon witnessing this, but Law does. Kyra does not see the insane amount of jealousy that springs to life within those eyes, does not see the glamour of perfect man falter or the features of the beast flash into view for an instant before the creature regains control of itself.

Law does. And Law is anything but amused.

The angelic immortal draws its wings around itself so that only a pair of glowing green eyes can be seen within those feathery depths. "Very well. I wish you pleasant dreams, little one. Remember that I am as your slave. Farewell for now."

And just as suddenly as it appeared, the Divine vanishes.

"Well," the sadistic surgeon muses, breaking the ensuing silence as he tilts her head back so that he might grin down at her. "I might be mistaken, but I do believe that you have earned yourself an admirer. If I were a different type of man, I would be jealous."

Kyra's only reply to that is a sharp pinch to the flesh of Law's side, coupled with a rather intense frown as bountiful indication that she does not find his comment amusing in the least. He decides that such a look is not suitable for these dreams, not after all this time spent apart. He will have to get rid of it, but perhaps somewhere other than a dank dungeon would provide more pleasing scenery...

When the drug wears off sometime later, Law wakes up with a smirk on his face and a very satisfied lover wrapped up in his limbs. She looks up at him with something that might be a glare if not for the things he has done to her in their dreams.

"You're an evil bastard," she mutters, disentangling herself and scooting towards the edge of the mattress as though planning to get up already. There is no rush, as it is only barely dawn, so the Dark Doctor has no compunction about reaching out to grab her wrist and tugging her back to him. She doesn't need to get up yet. The Divine will not be bothering them again anytime soon, the men are still asleep, and no one is attacking them. Law drags his magician over and makes himself comfortable, ignoring the grumpy expression on Kyra's face.

No one ever said the girl was a morning person, after all.

* * *

><p>There's something seriously off about this place.<p>

Kyra stands tensely at the railing of the Heart Pirates submarine, arms crossed over her chest with a deep frown cutting into her face. The vessel is cutting smoothly through the water, eating up the distance and drawing ever nearer the tropical island toward which the Log Pose has pointed them. The fine hairs on Kyra's arms and neck are standing on end. Her muscles are tight with tension. The closer they get to this newest spit of land, the more apprehensive she becomes.

Not that she's going to say anything to the crew. After the fiasco regarding the Divine and her state of near-paranoia ever since, the sorceress very seriously doubts that the men will give her words more than half an ear. Why should they? She spent three days freaking out thinking the Divine was going to appear at any moment to kill them all and snatch her away, only for nothing to happen. Neither Kyra nor Law has said anything about their dreamtime conversation with the dangerous being; so as far as the crew is aware, Kyra has cried wolf and no such threat has materialized.

Skeptical bastards.

So she is forced to bite her tongue as the sub comes to a stop near the shallows and the crew begins to gather on deck. Kyra runs a cursory eye over them, relieved that Bepo is conspicuously absent; Aaron will be staying on the ship, then. Sachi bounds up to her in a flutter of excitement, his best friend Penguin trailing behind as always.

"Smile, Kyra!" Sachi commands with a giant grin, grabbing her in a choke hold and swiping her hat off so that he can noogie her. Kyra retaliates by stepping none-too-gently on one of his feet, causing the man to emit a high-pitched yelp and jump away. Penguin holds out her hat without a word, a smirk playing with his lips as she returns it to its proper spot. Sachi in the meantime has seated himself on the deck and is rubbing gently at his abused foot, pouting childishly up at the mage.

"What's got _your_ panties in a bunch? Bepo just about bit my head off when I asked him if he was gonna come look around with us. Guess that means I better steer clear of Captain; if you and Bepo are both in a mood, gods forbid anybody do something stupid enough to piss him off. Man's got a temper worse than -"

"Than what, Sachi?"

Kyra cracks a grin as every drop of color leeches itself from Sachi's face, leaving him roughly the same color as his diving suit. Slowly, jerkily, he glances over his shoulder to where Law is standing nonchalantly against a previously empty section of the deck's railing. The Dark Doctor looks especially relaxed to Kyra's eye, longsword leaning casually against his shoulder and hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Cool grey eyes lazily study his subordinate as Sachi scrambles to his feet and blurts out, "Neil! He's an asshole, Captain, pretty sure that soufflé he made last night's got my stomach all screwed up. I'm gonna go chew his ass out, he does this shit on purpose 'cause I won't modify the oven for him! Come on, Penguin, where the hell is that perverted cook? Bastard makes those damn fancy desserts when he _knows_ I've got a delicate constitution...!"

His words fade away as he all but sprints across the deck in search of his selected scapegoat, Penguin moseying after him. Law watches them go with a knowing smirk for a moment before turning his attention to Kyra. All amusement instantly disappears from the pirate's expression; evidently some of her unease must be showing. She doesn't move as Law draws closer, one hand coming up to brush against the tattoo on her neck.

"What's the matter, my magician?"

Kyra shrugs uncomfortably, turning to face the island again even as a shiver dances up her spine. "I'm getting a bad vibe from this island. It's... cold."

Her captain shoots her a quizzical look. "A tropical island? I find that hard to believe."

Kyra merely shifts her weight from one foot to the other and says nothing. She had not been referring to the place's actual temperature. Only an idiot would dub this place a winter island when sweating in the heat from this far out. She doesn't really know what she's talking about, or how to explain it to Law. There is simply something... not right about the island, something off that has Kyra's stomach almost cramping in worry even as her magic races in excited anticipation.

Law takes one wrist and tugs, leading her toward the group of men who will be going ashore. Jambarl, Penguin, and Sachi will accompany her and the captain. Kyra is relieved at the small size of the scouting party. Less people will make it easier for her to protect them all. The quartet of men have all made sure that they are touching her - ever-playful Sachi earning a rather fierce glare from his captain that has his hand hastily relocating to Kyra's shoulder - and so she wraps her powers around them with the distant beach at the forefront of her mind. Hot sand appears under her bare feet seconds later.

"You want us to split up, Captain?" Penguin asks as they all move to study the wild forest that begins at the edge of the white sand. Though the heat is sweltering from the sun beating mercilessly upon their heads, the thick plant-life looks strangely dark. Foreboding. The thought of her crew separating, being away from her and without her protection, has Kyra's stomach twisting so that the taste of bile is strong in the back of her throat.

"Don't," she blurts out, interrupting Law just as he moves to speak. The group regards her in surprise while the man bound to her soul raises a single eyebrow in question. "Don't split us up. That's a seriously bad idea. Please don't."

Her hands are actually shaking, the magic within crying to be released in the form of a protective shield. Sachi had said that Bepo is in a mood; does the bear feel like this? What _is_ this? What the hell is wrong with this place to draw such a reaction from both sorceress and animal?

The men look to Law for further instruction. He in turn studies Kyra for a moment before saying, "No. We'll stick together for now. Let's go."

The group has barely taken ten steps before a hazy bubble encases them all, earning the resident witch more than one questioning glance that she ignores in favor of moving as close to Law as she can without knocking the man over. The pair move out to the front of the party, trailed by the silent trio and preceded by a protective wall. The shaking of Kyra's limbs has not abated, and she finds herself fisting trembling fingers into the fabric of Law's hoodie as they step into the jungle. He glances at her for only a moment before wordlessly pressing forward.

The air around them is impossibly still. There is no breeze whatsoever, no sound of animals moving through the underbrush, no chirping of birds from overhead. Nothing but the plants, the heat, and the utter certainty in Kyra's bones that they should not be here. The further they go into the island's interior, the worse this sense of foreboding becomes. Everything grows darker as the trees become more numerous and closer together, the only light being what filters in through the thick canopy. Behind her Kyra can hear Sachi cursing under his breath as he trips for the dozenth time on a hidden root or a clump of dense weeds. The protective shield passes harmlessly over the foliage, further indicating that there are no animals within to be uprooted and pushed aside. This does nothing to reassure the Heart Pirate magician, who is positive that she can feel eyes watching them. Her magic is roiling within, the voice whispering words of caution and promises of protection. Alone they may appear to be, but Kyra is not fooled; something is here, and it is studying them closely.

When it happens, it is so fast that none of them have a chance to react.

Kyra whirls at the scream from behind, leaping towards the tumbling Sachi even as she registers that the bottom half of the man's left leg is no longer attached. All that remains is a bloody stump that cuts off smoothly just below the knee, scarlet liquid spewing from it to soak the green underbrush. The rest of the leg from the top of his calf down is lying two feet away from its owner, the gory mess of muscles and bones inside visible from the top.

Law is instantly at Sachi's side, nodachi forgotten on the ground as tattooed fingers clamp over the horrifying wound in a futile effort to staunch the bleeding. Kyra yanks her magic inward until her shield is so close that it pushes against Jambarl's crown, head and shoulders as he is above the rest of them. What the fuck just happened? How did anything hurt someone within her protection? There is no time to ponder as Penguin suddenly slumps to the ground without a sound, blood staining his uniform at the shoulder as though something has stabbed him in the upper arm. Jambarl lets out a furious growl as he moves towards his wounded comrade, curses dripping from the quiet man like the blood dripping through Law's fingers.

"Kyra." The Surgeon of Death's voice is low and furious, the look on his face when she turns to him terrible to behold. "Get us out of -"

Jambarl's cursing cuts off abruptly. Kyra pivots just in time for her giant friend's head to bump into the side of her foot, his eyes staring sightlessly up at her as his body flops to the dirt a yard away.

Pain erupts from her stomach as something blows past in front of Kyra, bending her double before she finds herself lying on the ground, blood in her mouth and a wide gash dominating her abdomen. She chokes on the wetness in her throat, eyes rolling wildly in her head as she searches for Law. The power within is already trying to heal her, but Kyra is more concerned about the crew and her captain.

"Take that as a warning, rookie. Get outta my territory if you don't wanna die. I already claimed this place under the name of my crew, so fuck off."

Law is leaning over her, absolutely furious, his blood-covered hand joining hers over the gradually shrinking wound in her stomach. Kyra takes one hazy look at his face and feels a fleeting moment of pity for whoever the stupid bastard is that just harmed the Heart Pirates. They might not have figured it out yet, but they've obviously just signed their own death warrant.

"Get us out of here. Now."

Kyra is quick to obey, depositing herself and all four of the men on the deck of the submarine an instant later. She is hurting, the injury to her stomach having closed but still feeling extremely tender. Law shoves her hand out of the way to take a look for himself, running scarlet fingers over the new scar before nodding curtly and moving to see to the others. The sorceress sits up slowly, wincing at the ache in her gut but quickly brushing it off to focus on more important things. Like, say, her dead crewmate whose head is right next to her.

"I'll fix him," she croaks, reaching out and picking up Jambarl's head before staggering to her feet. Her own is spinning slightly, clothing sticking to her skin from all of the blood she has only just spilled. Kyra glances woozily over at Penguin's prone form, debating for a moment before shuffling to his side. She collapses back onto the deck, jabbing at his neck with clumsy fingers while still cradling the human head in her other arm. Only now does the battered mage realize that Penguin's suit is stained red on both arms at exactly the same spot. Satisfied that he indeed possesses a pulse, she drags her hand down his chest until it rests over the man's heart. Magic pours out of her without the need for prompting, white energy that sinks into the still body under her palm. Shit, his spine. Somebody jabbed something through Penguin's shoulders, slicing his spinal cord and completely crippling him. He probably can't so much as twitch, which would at least explain the blank stare.

Sachi is sobbing off to the side, Law's voice uncharacteristically harsh as he speaks to his patient before yelling for the rest of the crew. Kyra does her best to ignore all of this, focusing on helping her paralyzed comrade as her powers carefully heal the damage inflicted upon him. The task is completed just in time for the bloody little group to be surrounded by shouting and concerned pirates. She brushes aside the bellowed inquiries as to why the fuck she's holding Jambarl's head in her hand and takes only a moment to make sure Penguin can move on his own. As soon as it becomes apparent that he will be fine, Kyra scrambles across the deck towards the headless corpse.

_**Do you not feel helpless, little one?**_

Kyra's entire body locks down inches from the torso, that fucking voice ringing in her ears even as she registers that it is only in her head.

_**Were you to allow me to stay by your side, this would not have happened. Your dear ones would not have been hurt. Your attacker would have kissed the ground upon which you walked before I ended his life.**_

_"YOU FUCKING__ BASTARD!"_

Everyone freezes at her sudden scream, torn from a throat made raw with unbridled fury. Law says something, her name and other words that she should be listening to, but all she can hear is that damned creature's words in her mind.

_**Why are you angry with me, little one? Have I not stayed away as you requested? I had no part in your misfortune. I merely witnessed the event.**_

_"OH, AND I SUPPOSE YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" _Kyra shouts at the top of her lungs, placing Jambarl's severed head back on his neck and pouring magic into his body to reconnect the two pieces._ "WHAT ELSE WOULD HAVE GOTTEN THROUGH MY SHIELD BUT YOU, FUCKING MONSTER!"_

_**It is not your fault, dearest Kyra. Mortals die; it is the way of the world. You are powerful, as I made you while still you slept in your mother's womb, but you are not invincible. This day is merely a reminder of that. Had you heeded the warnings of your instincts as I intended, you would have stayed safe and not allowed these humans to put you into danger. I know that you sensed great peril - I made it so. Why did you not listen to what your body tried to tell you? If you insist on rushing back into danger, then have no fear: your powers will not fail you again. I simply wished to make a point, and it has been made.**_

She is shaking violently, tears dripping down her face to splatter against Jambarl's rapidly cooling flesh. His head is now reunited with the rest of his body, but at the moment Kyra can't concentrate enough to call his soul to her. Oh fucking gods, this is all her fault. If she hadn't let that thing out of its prison Jambarl wouldn't be dead in the first place. Sachi's whimpers cut through the girl like knives, and what if Penguin ends up with lasting damage somehow? All this because the Divine wanted to make a point to her. All this because Kyra let it out of its cage.

_**Do not cry, little one.**_ It actually sounds worried about her, as though her anguish is not completely due to the owner of that voice. _**Your tears distress me. I shall remove your troubles. Let go of the human corpse, Kyra. I shall dispose of it for you.**_

_**"FUCK YOU!"**_ She will die before she gives Jambarl to this beast. Trying to calm herself, calling upon the strength of her powers, Kyra encases her friend and comrade in a white globe. She throws out her senses, desperate to find the soul she wants, frantic that Jambarl might not have lingered for whatever reason. He has to still be here. He can't have gone to wherever dead people are supposed to go. "Jambarl? _Jambarl?"_

Warmth envelops her. The smell of sweat and salty sea breezes and the faintest whiff of sandalwood.

_Kyra-crying-too-damn-emotional-what-is-a-girl-doing-as-a-pirate-anyway-stop-crying-everybody-dies-eventually-_

Oh thank gods.

"You're not staying dead," the relieved mage barks out, blocking the Divine's next mental message and focusing completely on her task. "I'm bringing you back. Don't you dare try to argue, just let the pull take you and you can bitch when you're alive again."

_Damn-girl-always-bossing-me-around-miss-being-captain-didn't-take-orders_-_back-then-from-little-girls-with-too-much-power-and-no-sense-of-self-preservation-_

"Yeah, well, suck it up, buddy."

_**Why do you do this? He is merely a pirate, yes? Not your lover or family, simply a man with whom you travel. It is not wise to tamper with Death, little one.**_

_"Fuck. Off. _Okay, Jambarl, are you ready? Here we go, you're going to feel a really strong pull, _don't_ fight it you stubborn bastard..."

The relief that floods her when a newly resurrected Jambarl opens his eyes and meets her gaze is so strong that for a moment all Kyra can do is sit there and shake. She needs to get up. Sachi's leg has been cut off, she needs to go regrow it. Kyra tells herself this several times, hands fisted tightly in the material of Jambarl's sleeve as the big man slowly sits up and looks around.

"What happened? When did we come back to the ship? Kyra? Are you hurt?"

_**I will never allow harm to come to you, little one.**_

Right, so the part of the last half hour where the Divine screwed with her magic and got her gutted never happened. That's not blood on her shirt, it's fucking food coloring.

_**You were **__**only caused **__**pain because**__** these pathetic**__** humans cannot**__** protect you. They use you, Kyra. Can you not see that? You are a tool to them, a means of **__**defense **__**against stronger foes. Why do you allow yourself to be used by weak creatures _**such**_ as **__**these**__**? I would make them your slaves. All would **__**exist **__**only for the **__**manner **__**in which they could serve you. My chosen liberator should not be tied in servitude to people who do not care a whit for her.**_

"Shut up. Don't talk about them like you know anything. Go crawl back into that hole you came out of and leave me the fuck alone already."

She can feel the eyes of the crew on her. They're probably trying to figure out just who the hell Kyra is talking to, but the infuriated sorceress is too preoccupied to enlighten them. Uncurling her fingers from Jambarl's sleeve at last, she stands up and stomps angrily over to where Law is bent over Sachi. Penguin has joined his captain while his best friend lies with his head in the other man's lap, pale as milk and hands clutching Penguin's in a white-knuckled grip as he bites his lip to keep from crying out in pain. Someone has brought medical supplies, which the Dark Doctor is currently using to try to get the blood flow from the stump under control. He glances up as Kyra plops back down beside him, his eyes cold and clinical.

"Regrow it," he orders shortly, hands busy holding a fresh bandage against the ghastly wound.

_**Listen to the way your mate speaks to you, little one. He commands as though he has a right to do so. Why do you abide such behavior? It is you who has all the power, Kyra, and not your human lover.**_

Kyra does her best to ignore the Divine's continued whispers, focusing instead on getting Sachi back up to snuff as quickly as possible. That is what matters: her crew and their continued wellbeing, not the mutterings of a dangerous monster with access to her mind. Sachi's leg is a hell of a lot more important than the Divine's opinion on her guys and their relationship. Just ignore it. She'll fix Sachi right up and then have a talk with Law about which one of them gets to kill the fucker who dared to do this. Kyra shushes her poofy-hatted friend gently, motioning for Penguin to cover the injured man's eyes when the sight of his own limb reforming from the bone outward starts to distress him. The process is quick, and in no time at all Sachi is whole again.

"You lost a shitload of blood, but if you take it easy for a little bit you'll be alright," Kyra reassures him once his leg is perfect, sticking out of the chopped-off material of his boiler suit as he wiggles reformed toes in awe.

"Th-thanks," Sachi stutters, finally releasing poor Penguin's faintly blue fingers to prod at his new limb. "Thanks a lot. You know you're pretty freakin' awesome and I love you and all, right? 'Cause really, you are and I do. Like a lot."

She barely manages a tired smile, even when Penguin dumps the ginger's head from his lap and scoots over to give the mage an awkward hug. "Thanks, Kyra," is all he says.

She wants to cry. What the fuck are they thanking her for? If she hadn't let that fucking monster out of its prison they would never have gotten hurt in the first place. It's Kyra's fault, and her friends are sitting here talking like she did something good. Not knowing how to respond, not wanting to deal with the grateful looks she doesn't deserve, she looks over to where her captain should be crouched only to find the space empty. Bloody bandages are discarded in a heap where last she saw the pirate, but he himself is gone.

Turning, the exhausted sorceress quickly spots Law over by Jambarl, the rest of the crew clustered off to the side out of the doctor's way as he feels the large man's neck and asks quiet questions.

_**Not even an inquiry as to your welfare. This is your mate, little one? He barks out **__**orders and then ignores you when he should pamper you.**_

Ignore the damn monster. Jambarl's just been killed and then brought back to life, of course Law would want to check on him. And anyway, it's the Divine's fault any of this happened in the first place, so the fucking thing can take its hurtful observations and stuff them up its -

"Kyra."

Law's voice jolts her out of the trance she has sunk into, yanking her attention back to him. He beckons for her, so the mage rises on shaky feet to plod back over to him. He stands to meet her, bloody fingers reaching out to jerk Kyra's shirt up while his other hand runs along the new scar on her stomach. Kyra waits patiently as Law reassures himself that her guts are not in danger of coming out of their proper place, running a critical eye over Jambarl and wondering if there is any lingering stiffness in his neck.

"He's fine."

Blue eyes meet grey, and she very nearly flinches upon seeing the cold anger in Law's gaze. The Surgeon of Death slips his arm around her waist and turns slightly to speak to the men, one of whom steps forward to hand the captain his long sword. "We'll be back later. Penguin, Sachi, Jambarl: take it easy. The rest of you start getting us ready to leave. We will return as soon as the Log Pose sets. I want all preparations completed by then. Kyra, take us back to where we were when we came under attack."

The sorceress does as bid without comment, dumping the two of them once more in the middle of the jungle a moment later. The feeling of terrible foreboding has lifted, shadowy surroundings nowhere near as worrisome as they had been a short time before. The smell of blood is heavy in the still air, Sachi's original leg just to her left and a crimson puddle soaking the ground off to her other side. Law does not move for a long moment, gripping Kyra's hip tight enough to bruise and eyes fixed on the severed limb.

"Why did they pass through your shield so easily?" The question is so quiet it is very nearly a whisper. Kyra swallows heavily, aware by this low tone that her captain is beyond furious. He's only going to get worse when she answers - Law developed an extreme dislike for the Divine after their single meeting and tends to get rather testy when the creature is brought up in discussion. It is therefore no surprise when the Supernova's face wipes itself of all expression when the sorceress explains what the Divine has told her.

"It made you vulnerable to illustrate our limits." It is not an inquiry, but a statement of fact. Kyra nods anyway, unable to speak from the sheer force of the rage directed at her by grey eyes that might as well belong to a corpse for all the warmth to be found within them. The pressure his fingers are exerting is growing tighter by the second; she does not dare attempt to free herself when Law has such a deadly look about him.

"I'm sorry," she mutters after a charged silence, not knowing if that is the right thing to say but needing to say _something._ And gods but she's sorry; if Kyra had even the smallest inkling that this was going to happen, she would have happily tossed those damn storybooks into the ocean and let the Divine rot in his subterranean prison for the rest of eternity.

Law is abruptly several steps away, yanking off his hat and dragging his fingers through messy black locks. His back is to her, the rigid set of his shoulders conveying his rage to the sorceress' watchful eyes. She waits for the controlled explosion that is sure to come, the outburst of violence that only ever surfaces when Trafalgar Law is at his most savage.

Kyra's expectations are dashed; after a long moment her captain calmly places the furry accessory back on his head, rests his sheathed nodachi against his shoulder and strolls off into the surrounding jungle without a word. She follows in equal silence, hands once again trembling as the magic within cries out at her to comfort the man marching stiffly ahead of her. Kyra resists the impulse - talking or attempting to touch Law just now would be a _very_ bad idea.

_**He is cold to you**__** when warmth is your due, little one,**_ the Divine whispers tenderly into her mind.

_Shut up, shitty geezer monster. You don't know him. You don't know a damn thing._

The pirate crew the pair eventually stumbles upon fairly reeks of danger. It is purely by accident that they encounter their enemy at all, as the ones responsible for the pain of Kyra's friends are older; wiser in the ways of the New World; and obviously far more experienced. It is a large crew, easily several dozen battle-scarred men who tower over both herself and Law in height. The Surgeon of Death actually looks puny before the sheer musculature of this newest crop of foes. The clearing in which they reside is littered with the skeletons of monstrous beasts, no doubt the natural inhabitants of this island who have been cut down into extinction by this crew.

Law waltzes into the middle of these men like he hasn't a care in the world, Kyra following right behind him. Quiet chatter instantly ceases as all eyes are fixed on them.

"Good afternoon," the Heart Pirate captain speaks politely into the silence. "Might I have a word with your captain?"

The desired personage steps forward. The captain is revealed to be a tall, thickly muscled man with dark tan skin and a heavily scarred face. Upon close inspection of his movements and his long, thin-bladed weapon, Kyra deduces that this is indeed the man who killed one of her friends and crippled the other. That the damage has been reversed means nothing; the crime still must be paid for.

"Thought I told you to fuck off, rookie," the rival captain intones, his voice gruff and quiet and oozing with well-earned confidence. His crew surrounds them with disciplined synchronicity, forming a wide circle with no holes or visible weak points. Short of flying or tunneling beneath the ground, Kyra and Law will have some difficulty should they choose to bolt.

"You did," Law is saying, shifting his nodachi into a position that will make drawing the blade much easier. "However, you also made the unfortunate mistake of attacking my crew. I wouldn't be much of a captain if I simply left without exacting vengeance for my fallen men, now would I, Mr. Pirate Captain?"

Kyra's magic pulses to the surface, wisps of it rising from her skin to flitter about in the still air. Muttered exclamations inform the sorceress that her eyes have bled to black, and that the shield she has erected around the edges of this clearing have effectively caged the rival crew. She shifts her attention to their leader, who has pulled out his own weapon and is eyeing her warily.

"You picked the wrong crew to fuck with, stranger," the Demon Witch murmurs. She raises her fists, looking to Law for approval before acting. He grins devilishly at her, titling his head to indicate the men around them while conveniently leaving out the other captain. The bastard always takes all the real good stuff for himself. Isn't _she_ the one who got almost-gutted by Law's self-appointed opponent not so long ago? Probably only spared her because she is a woman. Chauvinistic to boot. Annoyed, Kyra encases her fists and arms with black magic and strides over to the nearest enemy. Before he can open his mouth to speak she has sent his head flying into the underbrush.

These men are extremely skilled, no doubt about it. They are not the type to let something like a girl punching their comrade's head off his shoulders faze them for more than an instant. They attack without mercy this time. As she works her way through the enemy crew, Kyra is subjected to slashes, bullet wounds, and blunt force trauma. She should drop from the sheer weight of the injuries, coupled with her earlier tiredness after bringing the dead to life again.

She does not falter once. The wounds heal themselves as Kyra butchers her foes. Her energy does not flag as it should. The opposing pirates don't even have time to ponder this miracle; they are dead in the next instant.

**_Feel my power, little one, _**a voice croons lovingly, its words echoing in her mind. **_Revel in the rush as it flows through you, augmenting your own abilities. Witness what we can do together._**

The surge is indescribable. Kyra feels as though she could fly to the moon. Are these men moving in slow motion, or is she simply moving impossibly fast? She finds herself caught in the field of Law's powers, a strange sensation seizing her as the hearts of the pirates around her leap from one chest to land in another without missing a beat. One floats towards her; Kyra grabs it in her hand and squeezes, mashing the organ into a pulp. Chaos descends as crewmates call out to each other in alarm, patting down foreign bodies and attempting to figure out what the hell is going on. Their distraction proves to be their downfall, as Kyra is quick to take advantage. It still strikes her as surreal when she snaps a man's neck and a body five feet away collapses to the ground. Such is the wonder of Law's Devil Fruit, the Ope Ope no Mi.

Her captain is toying with his own foe. The large man is already in several pieces, his head yelling obscenities as Law moves from limb to limb with his sword. It is a testament to the Supernova's level of fury that he is so methodical no conceivable part of the body is spared. He removes each of the rival captain's fingers. He peels the skin from the other man's torso in a long sheet. He cuts a gash into a disembodied leg and sticks his hand in to pull a bundle of muscles and tendons out of the limb. In spite of the ease with which he now works Law has not escaped from the older pirate unscathed: Kyra can see the blood pouring from a deep cut in his thigh, even as she spots a tear in the chest of his hoodie and the soaked sleeve of the hand wrapped around his weapon. She darts to his side long enough to heal the damage, backing off without comment once her task is completed under the watch of those cold grey eyes. Law does not say a word, merely goes back to silently torturing his newest victim.

It is a long time after the last of his crew has died before the enemy commander is finally allowed to pass into the void with them.

These are not rookies. They are seasoned children of the sea, men who have been in the dangerous New World for far longer than a measly two years. Their fighting is impressive, their discipline impeccable. In comparison to their experience, the Surgeon of Death and the Demon Witch are as babies.

And yet it is this pair that emerges victorious.

When the sun sets and the moon rises, bodies are strewn piece by piece upon the ground, blood soaking into the soil and staining Kyra and Law's clothing red as the echoes of screams are carried away on the breeze. The Surgeon of Death has expelled the coil of tension formerly keeping his lithe body rigid; his stance is loose and casual as he oozes back into the jungle and makes himself comfortable amongst the giant roots of an ancient, massive tree.

"The Log Pose has yet to set. We'll spend the night here." It is the first thing Law has said in several hours. Kyra nods without comment as she folds her tired body into the roots a short distance from her captain, trying to find a comfortable position while her own personal boogeyman murmurs across the impossible distance between them.

_**Let me come to you, little one. I will shelter you in my arms and wings, and your dreams will be ones of pleasure. I will hold you as your mate should do, and you will not be alone.**_

She is not alone. Law is right there, hat pushed down over his face and arms crossed over his blood-splattered hoodie as he attempts to sleep. He is the only one welcome in Kyra's dreams. _Get out of my head. Go away. _

_**You are angry with me? No lasting harm has been done to you or your companions. You have exacted your revenge on those who brought you pain. Why are you not pleased?**_

Is this thing fucking kidding? It screwed with Kyra's powers. It has caused Law to be angry at her. It fucking got Jambarl killed, for Roger's sake. Why the hell should she be happy? _Why won't you just stop bothering me? What do you want from me?_

_**It is not a **__**question of what I want, but of what you want. You have freed me from my prison.**__**Will you not allow me to free you from yours, Kyra?**_

What could she possibly need to be freed from?_ What are you talking about? I'm not a prisoner. I'm freer than I've been for most of my damn life._

_**You are bound to a man that does not love you. I can break that bond.**_

Kyra sits bolt upright, nearly smacking her head on a root in the process. Surely she has not just heard what she thinks she did._ What are you talking about? I'm not about to let you screw around with my soul or Law's. You can get that idea out of your head right now._

_**But what of your happiness, little one? Do you not want to be loved by your soul partner?**_

Loved? It's been years since someone loved her. Kyra has forgotten what it feels like._ Love isn't important. And I'd be perfectly happy if you'd stop fucking with my life. I freed you. You want to thank me? Then leave me the fuck alone. Don't screw with my magic. Don't put my crew and my captain in a position where they can get hurt because I can't protect them. Don't poke at my soul-bond. Just leave me be. I don't want anything else from you._

_**That is one request that I am afraid I cannot grant. Your powers are from me, Kyra. You carry within you a piece of me. I can never leave you completely alone.**_

Oh, that's just absolutely perfect. Just what Kyra needs to further complicate the clusterfuck of her life: a connection via her magic with an ancient being that can turn that magic on and off at will. A creature that can supply her with that addictive rush from earlier whenever the fancy strikes it. She flops down onto her back again, throwing an arm over her eyes._ I don't want you near me. I don't want your voice in my head. I don't want you in my dreams. Just... go away. Please just go away._

There is a long pause during which the sorceress listens to Law's even breathing. The Dark Doctor has at last succumbed to the exhaustion of the day newly ended. No doubt he is waiting for her in their dreams. Suddenly feeling unbearably cold even with the sweltering heat of the jungle, Kyra hauls herself to her feet and silently steps over to the sleeping pirate's side. Ever-so-carefully, she positions herself so that she lies with her head resting in Law's lap with one arm looped around his legs in a loose hug. Law's eyes do not open and his breathing does not alter - and still his fingers find their way into her hair.

The Divine's consciousness brushes against her own again. _**You care**__** greatly for**__** this human, **__**little one?**_

Her answer is immediate and without hesitation. _Yes._

Another, much longer stretch of silence follows. The heat is nigh unbearable. She has used an insane amount of magic today; sleep is beckoning to her like a siren's call. In the absolute darkness behind her eyelids, Kyra hovers on the edge of the dream world long enough for one more question to reach her. It is one that she has dreaded someone asking for a long time now. It is something that she will never allow to be revealed to her enemies, something even the crew must not be aware of, for both their safety and her own piece of mind. No one but Kyra must know, because that way they cannot use it against those she cares about.

_**You love this human, do you not?**_

She can never remember afterwards if she answered or not. It does not matter.

Kyra, at least, knows that had she not been falling asleep at that very moment, she would have replied with 'Yes'.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra is my idea.

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law leans against the wall just outside of the sub's galley, listening to his magician talk to Jambarl.<p>

"...so I fixed Penguin and then brought you back to life. You don't remember anything from when you were dead, do you? Nobody ever does."

"No," Jambarl rumbles in reply. "I remember heading for Penguin when he collapsed in the forest. The next moment you were sitting over me crying."

"Okay. No stiffness in your neck? It doesn't hurt to swallow or move your head? Anything feel off?"

"No."

"Okay."

They are deep within the sea, having quickly left that last island behind. Law and Kyra had returned to the sub once the Log Pose set at the crack of dawn, and the captain had wasted no time ordering Gable to dive the vessel. He has just come from a shower, damp hair free of his fur cap as it slowly dries in the warm air of the submarine. Having checked on both Penguin and Sachi moments prior, the surgeon has now tracked his other near fatality's whereabouts only to find the man in the middle of an interrogation much like what Law had previously planned to give. His magician is doing his job for him.

Kyra. _His_ magician. The same woman whose decision to go free an ancient monster from its prison caused his crew so much trouble yesterday. Law wonders if Kyra realizes just how close he came to striking her in his fury over the explanation she provided as to why their enemies were able to pass through her shield in a way only _he_ should be able to pull off. That damn _Divine_ is obviously going to be a problem. When will it next decide to tamper with Kyra's powers in a crucial moment? What is stopping it from doing worse? Why exactly has it decided that the Heart Pirates are to be its enemies? The uncertainty of the current situation infuriates the Dark Doctor, as does the fact that there doesn't appear to be a damn thing he can do about it. The feeling of being powerless in any situation is not one Law enjoys.

Jambarl is fine. Law pushes off of the wall and walks away, going towards his infirmary so that he might be alone for a moment more. He needs to think, to figure out what course of action would be in the best interest of his crew. The Divine is not going to simply go away; this fact was made plain to the pirate captain upon meeting the creature in that dream, seeing the near possessive way it had looked at Kyra. Law would bet that the Divine is completely prepared to hound the girl to the ends of the earth in pursuit of whatever it wants from her. It said in the dream that it is as Kyra's slave, but that is obviously bullshit. Were it willing to do anything for her, Law's crew would not have been hurt yesterday because the monster would have heeded Kyra's command to leave them alone. Tampering with Kyra's magic and allowing two of the crew to be injured severly while one of them died is not leaving them alone by any stretch of the imagination. It is apparent to the Surgeon of Death that the Divine is going to do whatever the hell it wants, Kyra's wishes and the Heart Pirates' lives be damned.

But what does it want? Before yesterday Law and his crew had no quarrel with the creature. They are not from Veneficus; their ancestors did not lock the monster away. Kyra's might have, but Law very much doubts that killing the girl is on the Divine's agenda. Human it is not, but male it definitely is - and a male does not look at a female the way it looks at his magician if they intend to kill them. Perhaps that is the solution: maybe this Divine desires Kyra, so it wants to remove anyone who might keep her from it.

Despite the gravity of such a revelation, Law can't keep a grin from his lips. Leave it to Kyra to draw the attention of an ancient shape-shifting monster. She has quite the talent for attracting danger.

"Captain Law?"

The prepubescent voice draws the pirate captain from his musings. Aaron is standing in the doorway, looking rather uncomfortable with his surroundings as his eyes stray over to the glass fronted cabinets behind which Law stores his medical blades. Bepo is not with him.

"What is it?" He does not take pains to speak kindly for the boy; after over a year and a half of traveling aboard his ship Aaron has become accustomed to the dangerous man. The concept that if he does not cause problems, he will be safe from the captain's wrath is one that was stringently impressed upon him within days of his arrival with Kyra. Law finds it somewhat amusing how easily the child has come to interact with not only his men and his bear, but himself as well.

"Is Kyra upset about something? She's in the galley, sittin' at the table, but she won't talk to me. She won't talk to Bepo, either." The boy fidgets for a moment before asking, "Did the monster scare her, too?"

_Too?_

Law slowly stands from the wheeled chair in which he had plopped upon entering the infirmary, attention now firmly on Aaron. "What do you mean? What monster?"

"The thing from my dreams. It's got fur and scales and a tail, and it can fly. It talks to me when I'm sleeping," Aaron explains as though such an occurrence is completely narutal. "It said it was a friend of Kyra's, but I don't believe it. It's not like Bepo, even though it looks like an animal. I don't like it. It keeps tryin' to get me to talk to it about Kyra. It wants me to make her take us home."

The Divine is contacting Aaron in his dreams, asking questions about Kyra.

Law is _not_ pleased.

"How long has this creature been in your dreams?"

Aaron has to think for a moment before slowly saying, "Remember when Kyra and Jambarl left that one day?"

Shit.

The Dark Doctor crosses to the boy and takes him by the shoulders, squeezing just firmly enough for the pressure to be uncomfortable. "You are not to tell this being anything about Kyra. It is extremely dangerous. Has it attempted to hurt you?"

Aaron shakes his head in the negative, looking scared. "I didn't tell it anything, Captain, I promise! I really didn't! It told me that Kyra was its owner or something and that she's supposed to be with it instead of here and that it'd bring back Mama and Daddy if I helped it but they died so it can't and I-"

"Aaron." Law waits while the kid takes a deep breath to calm himself, tattooed fingers still lightly gripping the thin shoulders. "If you really haven't told the creature anything then you have done nothing wrong. I will speak to Kyra about this. In the meantime, you will not say anything to the monster. _Nothing,_ Aaron. If I am correct about this thing's character, it will not deliver on any promises it might make you. It does not care about you, or your parents. Remember that."

Aaron sniffs, raising slightly watery eyes to meet the surgeon's cool gaze. "Yes, Captain. I won't tell it anything. I don't want it to hurt Kyra, either. You'll protect her, right? That's what she said when I asked her about the scientist. She said you'd take care of her."

_I think my captain's got my welfare covered. If I need help, Law will be there. _His magician's words echo in his thoughts even as he says, "Yes. I plan to."

He sends the boy to his room before retracing his earlier steps back to the galley. Law strolls in and goes to the table, where Bepo sits next to Kyra trying to engage her in quiet conversation while Jambarl stands off to one side, watching. The girl is being uncooperative, staring off into space while completely ignoring the fluffy pirate's words.

The surgeon sits down in the chair directly opposite her, annoyed when she proceeds to stare through him as well. He moves to snap his fingers before her face - and abruptly stops when he gets a good look at her eyes.

They have rolled back into Kyra's head until only the whites are visible. Narrowing his own eyes, Law takes a moment to study his magician. She is sitting stock-still in the chair, her spine as stiff as can be and her posture unnaturally perfect. Her mouth is close with the lips mashed so tightly together it looks as if they have fused with each other. As he examines her, Kyra suddenly twitches violently as though struck before once more going completely still.

"I told Aaron to go get you, Captain," Bepo tells him quietly, beady black eyes running over the Demon Witch's face with evident concern. "Did he find you?"

Law nods his head once in affirmation, reaching across the table to brush the back of his hand against Kyra's forehead. Her skin is as cold as ice, clammy and covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. "What happened?"

"Jambarl said she just froze up while they were talking. She went quiet in the middle of a sentence and got stiff like she is now. Captain, her scent is really different. I can't figure out what's going on with her." The bear droops dejectedly, rubbing one paw against the chest of his orange diver suit. "I tried to touch her a couple of minutes ago, but her magic slapped me away. What's wrong with her, Captain?"

Law has absolutely no idea. "Jambarl, step out of the room for a few minutes. Tell the others not to come in here until I allow it."

He moves his hand down to Kyra's throat as his massive subordinate exits the galley, setting his fingers lightly against her pulse. It pounds frantically, as though in fear or from a rush of adrenaline. Again Kyra twitches violently, jerking away from his touch even as her lips pull back to snarl fiercely at him.

**_"You are not worthy to touch the little one."_**

That is most assuredly_ no__t_ his magician's voice. Law's grip tightens reflexively around the girl's slim neck, fury roaring to the forefront of his mind.

"What have you done to her?" he demands, tone dangerously quiet as he leans as far over the table as possible without literally climbing atop the damn thing.

The Divine smirks at him with Kyra's mouth, her lids falling to half-mast over the whites of her eyes. _**"I**_ **_am currently gifting her with pleasure a pathetic mortal like you cannot possibly fathom. I am extending my gratitude for her part in my release. Never fear, human: unlike you and your little band of weaklings, I am more than capable of protecting her. I will never let her come to harm. It is therefore advisable that you remove your foul hand from her throat; I will not hesitate to take your head should she become bruised."_**

This bastard creature causes injury to his crew; tampers with his magician's powers; possesses her like some kind of ghost out of a horror story, and it has the sheer gall to _dare_ give an order to Trafalgar Law?

Law really wants to track this fucking thing down and kill it. Very, _very_ slowly.

"I do believe _my_ magician -" - and he is sure to put extra emphasis on the possessive pronoun - "- told you to stay away from her. I doubt this qualifies as heeding her demands. Is there a point to your little puppet show?"

**_"I give you fair warning, human. He who haunts her nightmares is closer than you seem to think. He is a man of formidable power with a keen obsession for the little one. You will need to protect her from him."_** This last part is delivered with extreme haughtiness, as though the Divine does not think the Surgeon of Death is adequately capable of taking care of his own woman.

"Clearly you don't know her as well as you wish," he drawls in response, purposely directing a condescending smirk towards the monster wearing Kyra like a meat suit. "If Merrick does manage to catch up with us, Kyra will not be appreciative to any interference while she has her fun. Perhaps you should keep that in mind yourself. But then again, who am I to tell such a powerful being what to do? By all means... _interfere._ My magician will then have the chance to rid herself of two annoyances instead of only one. I'm sure she will be receptive to that idea once I inform her that you have been harassing young Aaron. Not a smart move there, friend. Kyra is rather... protective of the boy, to put it lightly. She will not be pleased to hear that you have bothered him."

Kyra's face sneers at him dismissively. **_"The boy is of no interest to me. I simply chose to enter his mind rather than one of your subordinates, to save myself from the filth sure to be found in the subconscious of a pathetic human male the likes of which travel aboard this metal contraption. I_** **_wished to know more about my little one. The boy has not been harmed."_**

Law is fast growing tired of hearing that voice come out of his magician's mouth. He tightens his grip on her throat just a bit, leaning an inch closer to her body over the table and spearing the thing inside her with a fierce glare. "Your message has been delivered. I think it's time you gave back what is mine, creature. Get out of my woman."

The Divine then proceeds to calmly reach up and grasp his wrist in Kyra's smooth hand.

Law's arm from hand to elbow joint explodes.

He finds himself on the floor next to the table, one remaining hand clamped down over the stump of his mangled arm in a useless attempt to staunch the blood flow. Bepo is crouching over him protectively, claws extended, body in a kung-fu pose, snarling loud enough that the pirate can feel the vibrations in his bones. From the other side of the table that voice speaks to him, the power in its words suffocating.

**_"Do not presume to command me, pathetic mortal. None but Kyra may do so. You are not worthy of her soul. You are not worthy of her heart. When the time is right, I shall strip you of the bond between you and free her of your hold. At present you serve a beneficial purpose, so I will allow you to live for the moment. If you should fail in the task I have set before you, I shall take great pleasure in ending your miserable life. Remember that, human."_**

There is a short pause before Kyra's unconscious form slides out of the chair in which she sits and slumps to the floor in a heap. Bepo immediately ceases his snarls and spins to face his captain, looking absolutely panicked.

"Captain! Your arm! What do you want me to do?"

"Wake her up," is Law's instant reply, hissed out between clenched teeth as the notorious seafarer fights not to pass out from the pain radiating fiercely throughout his entire body. His blood is staining the floor of his galley, seeping through his fingers in a veritable waterfall. And his magician is lying on that same floor, out cold and not moving so much as a muscle.

"But-"

"Now, Bepo!" The order is snapped at the sensitive bear, who flinches back before scurrying around the table to take Kyra by the shoulders and shake her frantically. Law watches through a growing haze as Bepo smacks Kyra lightly on the cheek while telling her that the Captain needs her, wake up Kyra, Captain needs you,what's going on _oh shit, what the fuck happened, no don't close your eyes damn you, look at me, **look at me**, wake up wake up wake up - _

"Dammit, Law, open your fucking eyes! Wake up!"

Something is striking him repeatedly in the face. Law jerks upright, immediately biting down hard on his tongue to keep from making a sound as white-hot bolts of pain shoot from his sloppily amputated limb. Snowy paws are quick to press on his shoulders, forcing him to flop onto his back once again as Kyra leans over him. Her face is the color of paper, her cheeks wet with what look like tears. Law grins rather weakly at her as she puts her hands in the air just above the stump that was once his arm.

"Welcome back, my magician. So nice of you to rejoin us. I trust you are none the worse for wear thanks to our little guest." His voice is completely the same as it ever has been, faintly sarcastic with an undertone of teasing. He is very pleased that this is so; it would never do for him to show weakness even in a situation such as this one.

"What the hell are you talking about, you idiot? You're the one who got his fucking arm blown off!" A pleasurable cooling sensation takes hold of Law's mind as what is left of his left arm disappears in an encasing of white. The relief is instantaneous, and the pirate captain allows his body to completely relax as Kyra frets over him while Bepo keeps slight pressure on his shoulders. He grins at his woman once again, this time much more confidently thanks to the removal of the former agonizing pain.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid I hit something of a raw nerve with your newest suitor. Apparently the Divine takes issue with the fact that you are mine. It wasn't so foolhardy as to hurt you as well, correct?" If it did, there will eventually be hell to pay. The only one allowed to cause any pain to his magician and live is Law.

"What? No, I'm fine, aside from a splitting headache," is Kyra's absentminded reply as she takes the pirate captain's newly regrown hand in her own and begins examining it minutely as though it were a precious specimen. "Is the pain gone? Is your lower arm stiff or sore? Did I get the tattoos in the right place?"

His hand is fine. Law uses it to grasp Kyra's trembling fingers so that she will look up at his face. Bepo releases his shoulder. The Dark Doctor sits up and takes his magician's chin in hand, peering into her bloodshot eyes and gauging the state of her pupils. "What did it do to you?"

Kyra instantly flushes maroon from her collarbone to the roots of her hair.

Law is less than pleased by this reaction.

"Um - I don't - it wasn't - it just - kind of -" she stutters out in a brilliant display of her intelligence. She removes her chin from his grasp and scrambles to her feet, dissolving the blood splashed upon the floor with a wave of her fingers. Law watches as she then runs a hand distractedly through her hair, obviously floundering for the proper words with which to explain her experience.

"It just... showed me stuff. Scenarios... and... and possibilities it's hoping for," Kyra finally whispers, face the color of newly-spilt blood, looking and sounding absolutely mortified. All at once the red disappears from her face as she jolts and stares at him. "Oh, shit, it said Merrick's close! It said he should catch up to us in a day or two! Fuck, Law, what do you want to do?"

Law very carefully stands from his place on the floor, Bepo right behind him as the bear hovers anxiously in case he is needed. "Do you wish to engage him?"

"Not out in the open like this," Kyra responds immediately, giving her head an emphatic shake. "It would be better to face him on land, and since we just left an island a few hours ago and there's no telling how close the next one is -"

"I see." The captain turns to address his first mate. "Bepo, go and explain the situation to Gable. Tell the men that we will stay submerged for the foreseeable future. And let them know that the galley is no longer off limits."

Bepo nods reluctantly before disappearing in the direction of the bridge, leaving Law alone with his very concerned magician. She grabs his regenerated hand without a word, running her fingers over every inch of skin in an almost frantic caress. "Are you sure you're okay? You were bleeding all over the place."

"That tends to happen when a limb is amputated if some kind of clamp is not on hand."

Kyra glares at him, obviously not amused by that comment. Law snags her fingers in his own when she moves to pull away from him, preventing her from fleeing.

"Your response to my earlier question was not satisfactory," he informs her in a calm, level tone. "Elaborate."

Kyra adopts a look of one who very much wishes that the floor would open up and devour her. She swallows heavily, the gulp audible in the otherwise silent galley, color once more flooding her cheeks a startling red. Law squeezes her fingers firmly in a wordless prompt to do as ordered. There is a long, uncomfortable pause.

"I... I can't say it," his magician whispers, ducking and turning her head to stare at a patch of floor off to the left. "I can't. I'm sorry, it's just... I can't say the words."

"It said that it was giving you immense pleasure," the ruthless pirate prods, uncaring as to his companion's obvious discomfort. "I'm assuming it referred to pleasure of a sexual nature. What I do not understand is how that was accomplished without the Divine's physical presence. Were you aware that it could possess you like that?"

"No!" Kyra replies immediately, snapping her head back up to him with a disgusted expression. "Are you kidding me? I've never felt so... so... _violated_ in my entire life! I feel like that fucking thing raped me or something! Do you have any idea what it's like for another entity to invade your consciousness and use your body for its own purposes? If I'd known it could do that to me, I'd have damn well done whatever I had to in order to prevent it!"

Satisfied that she is truly repulsed by the afternoon's adventures, Law uses his hold on Kyra's hand to draw her close and claim her mouth with his own. His free arm is soon wrapped around her waist, preventing her from backing up when air becomes needed. He kisses her until he can feel himself becoming light-headed from oxygen deprivation, and when he releases her lips it is only to plant his own over the tattoo on her neck.

"Do you know why I marked you with this?" the surgeon murmurs into inked skin once his breathing is more or less under control.

"To cover the permanent fucking bite mark?"

He grins against her, letting his tongue snake out for a quick taste. "I put this tattoo where everyone can see it so that they will know that you are mine. _My_ magician, _my_ woman, marked with _my_ Jolly Roger. I don't give a damn how infatuated the Divine has decided to feel: I will not be giving you up to anyone anytime soon. If you only claimed that we cannot face our dear Mr. Merrick at sea because you are afraid of being retaken as his living test subject, tell me. I will give Gable the order to turn us around and put an end to that concern personally."

Kyra's forehead thumps down to rest against his shoulder as she sighs. "That wasn't why. I just haven't figured out how the hell to kill him. I'm fucking exhausted. I've used a lot of magic the last couple of days, I just got spiritually raped, and I want to bathe _very_ badly. I don't want to deal with Merrick right now, and I don't want to engage him in a fight when we don't know what kind of back-up he has with him or even if it's possible for any of us to kill the bastard."

Appeased with her answers, Law gently propels her out of the galley in the direction of their room. "A shower sounds like a lovely idea. Surely you won't mind if I join you?"

Sleep-deprived blue eyes wander tiredly up to his face. "Would it do any good if I said yes?"

The Surgeon of Death smirks down at the Demon Witch with a michievous gleam in his own grey orbs. "Not a bit."

"Jackass."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Little one...<strong>_

Kyra can't help the yelp that issues as she tries to bury her face further into Law's sternum. One hand clutches almost desperately at the man's left arm as images of the way it had looked hours ago flash before her eyes. Interspersed with that picture are snatches of the things she was forced to visualize while her body was used as a life-sized puppet by the owner of the voice that has just whispered through her mind.

_Go away,_ she thinks desperately as both of Law's perfectly healthy arms wrap around her. _Go away. GO AWAY!_

Kyra does not want to hear that voice, safe in her captain's arms in their bed after two colossally shitty days. She wants to savor the calm around her until she is relaxed enough to sleep. She wants her private dreams with Law. She wants to work on erasing the image of him lying in a growing pool of his own blood, the bottom half of his arm blown off and his normally tan skin chalk-white. She wants to soak up the warmth of his flesh, which had been cold and clammy and unnatural when Kyra slapped his cheek to rouse him.

**_Little one, you must listen. You_ _are in need of my help if you wish to defeat your foe._**

The sorceress desperately wishes that she could simply clap her hands over her ears and make that fucking voice go silent.

"I have you," the man who is currently providing excellent service as Kyra's pillow murmurs, his familiar tones a welcome reminder that she is not alone. "I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me."

**_Ignore the human, little one._** **_It is I who has information that you will need._**

"It's whispering to me again," Kyra breathes out, lips moving against Law's flesh in an unintentional caress. "It says it has some kind of information."

"What information?" Calm, low, even. His voice is in complete contrast to the accelerated beating of the heart under Kyra's cheek.

_**You may tell your human lover.**_ The Divine sounds less than pleased at what it obviously considers a generous allowance. As though Kyra actually needs its goddamn permission to do whatever the hell she wants. **_He_ _will need_ _to know_ _so_ _as to_ _be sufficiently prepared to protect you._**

_Just say whatever and get out of my head_, the uneasy mage thinks rudely. She doesn't give a shit about manners. This... _thing_ used her to hurt Law. If she could, Kyra would kill it herself for that. There is a strange sensation like an invisible hand passing gently over her face. Kyra flinches away from it, turning her head until her other cheek rests against her lover's skin.

**_The being you call Merrick is not fully human._**

What?

**_Rather, he is a half-breed._** **_While his_ _mother was a human, his father was of my race._**

"Holy shit, there are _more_ of you monsters running around?" Kyra blurts out, equal parts appalled and horrified. Law's arms tighten significantly as he tenses against her.

The Divine sounds rather insulted when it replies.**_ We are not monsters, little one. We are merely different from humans. Long ago, before your histories were written, my race was the dominant species on this earth. Now the majority of my brothers and sisters have gone into permanent hibernation. I am older than you could possibly imagine, little Kyra. I have seen the ages of men rise and fall and rise again. I watched as the first of the Devil Fruit trees took root and grew. I have seen the earth reshape itself. I have watched the sun die to be reborn anew. I have witnessed wonders and terrors beyond your understanding. Sometimes, when one of my kind has seen and experienced too much, we choose to hide ourselves away and retreat into our minds. Better for us to sleep and dream for a few millennia rather than become overwhelmed and lose contact with our sanity._**

Kyra quickly relates everything she is told to her captain. _What does any of that have to do with Merrick? How do you know he's a - a half-breed?_

**_Because I have tasted it in his blood. He possesses a limited amount of the abilities of my race. Nothing like the power which you wield, little one, but _****_enough to prevent him from dying as easily as a normal human._**

The sorceress feels something cold slither down her spine._ You - you've met him?_

Instead of answering with the mental words it normally uses to communicate with her, the Divine forces the memory into her brain with all the gentleness of someone ripping out a tooth with a pair of pliers.

* * *

><p>The humans are staring at him in shock-awe-fear. They wave their puny weapons about, shouting at him and at each other with hurt-kill-maim thick in their voices. He slaughters them easily, snuffing out their pathetic lives like dozens of little flames. These humans are not important. The one he hunts is near; he scents the air with tongue and snout to lock onto the mortal's location. Anyone aboard the floating-gliding wooden contraption that gets in his way is disposed of.<p>

He dislikes this vessel; it is too enclosed when he descends into its belly, reminding him of the cramped prison in which he wallowed for so many thousands of years before his little one set him free. He will give her great gifts in gratitude and affection. He has already purified his home for her, and soon he will present her with the head of the human male whom she hates with such fervor. Surely then his little one will accept his affection.

He licks his snout, cleaning his fangs of the accumulated gore. He wonders for a moment what the little one's blood tastes like; perhaps someday she will let him taste her.

His prey is waiting calmly for him, apparently not concerned with the slaughter of its traveling companions. The mortal is rather plain to the eye, in his opinion. Perhaps that is why his little one hates it so? Or mayhap she can smell the power coming off of it, a corrupted stench that offends his nostrils and plants the urge to kill in his soul. He bares his teeth at the male, spreading his wings wide and raising his head imperiously so that none may question which of them is truly dominant.

The other male immediately folds itself to kneel on the floor, pressing its forehead to the dead pieces of trees in submission.

"Welcome, Elder," it says, its voice soft and musical in contrast with other human voices he has heard. "I am honored by your presence. Please avail yourself upon the blood and meat of these humans, though they are hardly worthy of your palate."

He snarls at the pretty-voiced creature before him, insulted that it thinks flowery greetings and the offer of meat will appease him. His tail is around its throat in an instant, lifting it off the floor as he begins to slowly strangle it. He has placed the strange not-human smell from it, recognizes the power that lies just beneath its ugly pale skin; but not even the child of one of his many brothers may mock him without retribution.

_**Do** **not think to tame me, half-breed**_, he sneers into the tainted creature's mind. He would very much like to kill it, as he had planned to go to his little one and present her its head. He is tempted to do so, although the laws of his race compel him to give warning first. Half-breed it may be, but as such it is still protected under the ancient protocols. Killing it would give its father cause to challenge him. The little one might become involved. That is not an acceptable risk. Tradition will be followed instead.

**_You are hunting one who is forever under my protection. Were it not for the fact that your father is of my race, I would gladly kill you for her. She is my savior, and none shall ever cause her harm. I give you a single warning, mortal, thereby following the demands of the imperatives of my species: cease your hunt for her or I will present her with your head._**

"Wh...who?" it gasps out, fingers clutching at his tail in a useless struggle to loosen his hold around its neck. "Who is this savior, Elder?"

**_She who is called Kyra, _**is his devoted reply, the name of his little one echoing within his head in a most pleasant manner. The half-breed is thrown carelessly across the room; he is gone before it can regain its footing, shooting up through the layers of dead wood until he can feel the sun on his fur and feathers once again. The half-breed has been sufficiently warned; if it strays after his little one again he will happily tear it to pieces with teeth and claw and tail. Anything for his little one.

Only for Kyra.

* * *

><p>Kyra comes back to herself with a disoriented shout and an ungodly headache. Law has shifted them during her little foray down the Divine's memory lane, so that she lies with her head in his lap as he leans back against the wall. She is thankful that it is late and the lights are out; her cranium is pounding plenty without light piercing her eyes.<p>

_**Y**_**_ou are safe from the__ half-breed for now, little one,_** the Divine whispers tenderly while her magic works to relieve the sorceress of the dozen or so giants doing jumping jacks on her brain. **_I will be here when its obsession overrides its self-preservation. I will not allow you to be harmed._**

Again with that promise. Kyra seems to remember it saying the same damn thing yesterday - right after letting her get halfway gutted. Some niggling suspicion tells her this is going to be about as horrific an idea as that one.

"Are you aware at last, my magician?" Law's hand smooths over her cheek while the other continues it's pleasurable assault on her sensitive skull. She quickly recounts everything she has just seen, ignoring the grumbles of displeasure from the Divine as she does so. The beast just mentally assaulted her; it can go crawl in a hole for all she cares if it doesn't like what she's doing. Story finished, Kyra rolls so that she is staring up at Law and scrubs her sweaty face with both hands.

"What do you want to do?" the sorceress inquiry softly, feeling sore and spent in a decidedly unsatisfying manner. Damn, but she wants to sleep for a few days.

Law hums, the vibrations transmitting easily through where they are touching. He bends to feather his lips over hers, smirking as he always seems to when unconcerned or supremely pleased with himself. "Do? Nothing. Anything. I rather thought that what we have been doing seems like a good idea for now. If Merrick will not be a threat for the foreseeable future, then there is no need to worry."

He untangles his hand from Kyra's hair and grins at her while smoothing his thumb repeatedly over her forehead. "Don't make that face, Kyra. Surgeon I may be, but it is beyond my field of expertise to remove worry lines or premature wrinkles."

Kyra retaliates by slapping the smug bastard hard on the chest, pushing herself up and out of his lap. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands, going over to pick up her satchel full of clothes before heading to the bathroom.

"I feel gross. I'm taking a shower." That is all she says before closing the door behind her and stripping.

She stands for a long time under the heat of the water, trying so damn hard not to think. Kyra is tired of thinking. She just wants to relax and sleep. Surely that's not too much to ask, right? Not after what happened yesterday, not after being possessed today. The sorceress would really like to take a vacation from the perpetual headache her life has become since she let the Divine out of its freaking cage. Why the hell won't it just leave her alone?

And now Merrick knows about the creature. Merrick knows that it is fond of her, that Kyra set it free, that it will kill him should he come after her. That should hopefully buy Kyra more time to figure out just how the hell she's supposed to kill the son of a bitch. The Divine claims that Merrick has the blood of one of those monsters running through his veins. It says Merrick can't be killed as easily as a normal human. So how the hell is she supposed to do it? Her powers won't work; she's tried that already. If Kyra's magic doesn't get the job done, she seriously doubts bullets or blades will have any effect. Maybe Law can cook up some kind of slow-acting poison?

No way in Hell is Kyra simply going to hand the man who peeled her mother's face off to the Divine. She's going to kill him. Personally.

And gods, but she's going to enjoy it immensely.

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><p>AN: Please review.


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

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><p>"Gable has just informed me that a rival pirate ship is approaching swiftly from the starboard side." Law's calm voice from the head of the table easily cuts through the chatter of the men at breakfast. Kyra looks up from the remains of her waffles at the hint of steel in his words. "Get ready for a fight, men."<p>

The crew immediately scrambles. Kyra moves to join them, only for a hand to quickly close around her wrist.

"You stay with the boy," her captain commands in a tone that brooks no argument.

"How much longer are you going to be doing this?" she asks crossly, tugging at her wrist in a futile attempt to free it. "It's been weeks. That bastard hasn't even spoken to me for the last eight days. I want to fight."

Law shakes his head, eyes narrowing as though he is displeased with her for questioning him. "No."

Kyra is somewhat less than thrilled. In the weeks since the Divine stripped her of her powers at a crucial moment, Law has completely forbidden the sorceress from engaging the various Marines and pirates they have crossed paths with. He hasn't even allowed her to do is put up a shield around the sub to protect them all from cannon fire. She is totally banned from using her magic at all. Kyra has been sequestered to the ship for the last couple of islands; hasn't participated in a fight in weeks; and is in danger of dying from sheer boredom. Law's extreme caution is getting old.

Kyra seethes, feeling the rage boiling up within her. It has been doing that rather a lot lately. She has fits of anger over inconsequential things much more often than she ever has before. Yesterday she actually tore the hatch from its hinges while stomping outside after an argument with the cook over which of the Blues has the better quality of coffee beans. She had fixed it, of course, but the flairs of blinding rage are bothersome. Kyra grits her teeth for a moment, fighting down the sudden urge to scream at the Dark Doctor.

"This is stupid. One of these days you're going to come up against some crew that's going to wipe the floor with you and your men. How am I supposed to keep that from happening if I'm stuck in here with Aaron? What the hell good am I if you treat me like some burden you have to keep shut away?" The fury drains out of her as suddenly as it had reared its head, leaving a heavy depression in its wake. "I'm not worthless. I'm _not._ Why won't you let me prove that? Don't you trust me anymore?"

She hates the pathetic sound of her own voice, these fucking unexplainable mood swings, and the way Law doesn't immediately answer her last inquiry. And why should he trust her? How can any of them trust her, after the Divine left her helpless and useless when they needed her most?

Law studies her intensely for a long moment, his icy eyes boring into her very soul in a way that still has the ability to make her squirm. Why does he look at her like that? What's he expecting to see, the Divine staring back at him? Kyra knows that the incident in which her troublesome 'slave' blew up Law's arm shook the captain, whether he will admit it or not. Doubtless that episode has a lot to do with his current overprotective attitude. But dammit, she's not the Divine! She's Kyra, she's her own person, and she'll never let that freakish monster control her like that again! Who the fuck does Law think he is, doubting her like this? How many times has she saved his worthless life, or the lives of his crew? How many times has she snatched her captain - her _lover,_ for Roger's sake - from the threshold of the afterlife?

She tears her hand free of his hold and brushes past him, storming off towards their room. "Fine!" Kyra snarls, once again completely incensed. "Go on then, do whatever the fuck you want. Don't come crying to me if you get hurt or one of the guys ends up dead. I don't give a shit."

An iron grip clamps around the back of her neck halfway down the hall, forcing her to stop. Growling, shoulders tensed to a painful level, Kyra stands there and fights to regain control of her emotions. Turning around and decking Law in the face is not a good idea, no matter how satisfying it might be. Breathing in deeply through her nose, fists clenched so tightly at her sides that she can feel her nails puncture the skin of her palms, the sorceress waits for Law to say something.

"You do not speak to me like that, Kyra," he warns her, his voice dangerously quiet. "Or have you forgotten which one of us is the captain?"

The sorceress scoffs at this. "No shit, Captain. How could I ever forget that you're in charge and I'm just your bitch? You say jump and I'm supposed to ask how fucking high. I know my place, _Master._ No worries there."

Law's grip tightens significantly. "Your attitude could use an adjustment, my magician."

"And your ego could do with a couple of downsizings," Kyra snaps back, displeased that he would use that little pet name of his at a time like this. "Don't you have a crew to slaughter? The guys are going to kill everybody if you don't go up there. I'll be a good little tool and stay -"

She is jerked around, pushed so that her back slams against the wall as Law looms menacingly in her face. Unperturbed, the angry woman glares back, dearly wishing she could draw a little blood from that damn handsome visage crowding into her space. Stupid soul bond. Stupid magic.

"You are severely trying my patience, Kyra," the Dark Doctor informs her coldly, so close that his lips graze her own.

"Join the club," she sneers in reply, planting her hands on his chest and shoving him back. "Oh wait, that's right, I'm a tool. I'm not allowed to be irritated with you. Well, please excuse me, Master, I'm having a rebellious stage."

Law's hand twitches at his side. Kyra can tell by the look on his face that the pirate would dearly love to either slap her or pull out a scalpel. She thinks for a moment that he might actually act on that urge, that Law is about to cross a line he hasn't approached in a very long time. The witch braces herself for a real fight, perfectly prepared to do whatever she has to in order to defend herself. She will not be Law's punching bag, or his living test subject. She'll kill them both first.

But the moment passes as quickly as it came. Law turns without another word and stalks away, headed in the direction of the hatch to join his crew in the fight against their rivals. Kyra watches him until he is out of sight. She feels strangely disappointed, dejected even. Why the hell didn't Law try to hit her? Is she not even worthy of his fury?

Oh, come on! These mood swings are officially fucking ridiculous. What the hell is wrong with her? Spinning on one heel, Kyra stomps to the room she shares with Law and slams the door behind her before flinging herself on the bed. She grabs a pillow, presses her face into the soft surface, and screams for all she's worth.

What the fuck is going on? It feels like her emotions are doing a tremendously complicated dance, yanking her from one mood to another in the blink of an eye on the slightest provocation. If the crew wasn't so leery of her abilities, Kyra has no doubt they would have started up the PMS jokes days ago.

And it's not just the mood-swings. Her entire body aches constantly. She can't sleep for more than a few hours without waking up filled with restless energy. She has never been what one would call a binge eater, but now Kyra finds herself experiencing cravings for the most disgusting combinations of food. Sachi and Penguin had looked on in awe a few days ago as the sorceress downed a jumbo helping of pickles and peanut butter.

She _loathes_ pickles.

Something is wrong, and Kyra would really like to know what so that she can damn well fix it before it drives her completely insane. Hell, if she wasn't already positive that she is unable to become pregnant - something about the magic in her body corrupting the female reproductive organs; Law had given a long lecture about it ages ago to explain why he had failed to knock her up - she might think that is the problem. Aching body, weird eating habits, mood swings from hell; that would fit.

Her pondering on the subject is abruptly put on hold when a cannon ball tears through one wall, sails across the room, and blasts apart the opposite wall as it continues on its way. Shrapnel from the damaged steel flies at impossible speeds through the air, several pieces embedding themselves into Kyra's side as she lurches off of the bed with a startled shout. She dashes out of the bedroom door and flings herself at Aaron's room, calling the boy's name as she jerks his door open and sees the holes in the walls from the projectile that just penetrated the sub. The vessel is heaving slightly from side to side as the wind picks up and the waves grow; freezing water sloshes into the room to soak Kyra's feet and the bottom of her pants.

"Aaron? Aaron, where are you? Talk to me, kid!"

A weak sob from the opposite side of the bed draws her attention; she is across the room in an instant. What she finds has Kyra stumbling slightly in shock before lunging forward to attempt to grab the boy up in her arms. He is hurt, his smaller body peppered with bleeding holes where pieces of the steel walls had blown inward and punctured his flesh. Tears run down his thin face to mix with the blood from the ugly gash on one cheek. He needs help. He needs Kyra.

Who is suddenly unable to move because someone has just picked up her heart and is apparently trying very hard to squish it.

In seconds the sorceress is on the floor, hands clutching uselessly at her chest as she gasps for breath that refuses to come. Water is still pouring into the room, dousing her and the wounded boy who is crying in pain mere feet from her. She tries to crawl towards him, stretches her power out to fill him and begins healing the damage to his form even while the pressure on her absentee heart grows fiercer by the second.

Aaron flings himself at her as soon as her magic finishes healing her, smaller hands scrabbling at her chest. "Kyra, what's wrong? Get up, there's too much water! You have to get up! Get up!"

Kyra struggles for a moment before managing to put a hand on the boy's shoulder and weakly push in the direction of the door.

"Find Law," she wheezes out seconds prior to loosing a glass-shattering scream of pure, unadulterated agony as whoever now holds her heart in their hands clamps down on the fragile organ with extreme force. Aaron bolts for the door, leaving Kyra alone with her pain to wonder if she is about to die.

A different consciousness suddenly touches her own.**_ Little one, why are you in pain? What has happened?_**

Oh, fuck. Not now. She can't deal with the monster now.

If the Divine hears her private thoughts it gives no sign._** I will come to you. Wait but a moment, little Kyra. I am coming.**_

NO! She doesn't want that thing anywhere near her! She wants Law! She wants the agony to stop!

And it does. Just as abruptly as the pain began it ends. Arms of deepest brown are wrapped around her, holding her like a bride against a muscular chest. The solid torso rumbles soothingly as feathers brush gently over her bare arms and face. Over the sound of the flooding water and her own gasps for air, a rich voice reaches the mage's ears. "Just breathe, little one. I shall take you to your lover. No more harm shall come to you."

Kyra is engulfed in the creature's onyx wings. They shelter her from the rest of the world as the Divine walks, keeping her from knowing where they are going while she tries to recover from the ordeal of moments ago. What the hell is going on? What happened to her heart? Why did the pain suddenly stop like that? Before she can compose herself enough to voice these questions out loud, the Divine rudely plucks them out of her head and proceeds to answer.

"Little one, I do not know what is happening here. There are many humans on this floating den of metal and wood. Some are of your companions, but many more are not. Those with whom you travel are battling the interlopers, but there is little hope that they will be victorious. There is one amongst the numbers of your enemies who is of my race; no mere human has a chance at killing us."

**_What?_** Oh shit, she needs to get out there! Her guys fighting one of these freaks? They'll be slaughtered like animals! The Divine continues speaking, its words adding to her panic like oil dumped on a bonfire.

"It seems I was mistaken to think that the half-breed would be properly cowed by my commands. Instead it has chosen to recruit its sire. It is they who lead your enemies, and it is my brother who now has possession of your heart. I have shielded you from the pain his rough handling brought you, but we must quickly act to reclaim it."

Oh gods. Her heart in the hands of a monster. Merrick, on the sub. Merrick's father, on the sub and holding her heart. Gable said it was just some random pirate crew! Kyra's stomach cramps from the fear clawing away at her senses. The Divine holds her closer and wraps its wings tighter around her, shushing her in what is obviously supposed to be a soothing manner.

"Do not fear, little one. I will not allow harm to befall you. My brother will not touch you. Your heart will be returned post haste."

She doesn't have time to say anything. They are suddenly outside, standing on the deck amidst the chaos of battle. It has begun to rain heavily, the moisture quickly soaking Kyra as the Divine unfurls its wings from around her and raises them high behind its back. She is set gently on her feet as the creature smiles knowingly at her. "Go and find your lover, little one. I shall locate my brother."

Kyra does not need telling twice. Instantly she darts into the mob of men, unleashing her magic for the first time in weeks and butchering fighters in Marine regalia left and right. Her crew exclaims in shocked surprise as she passes, some of them giving shouts of disgust or annoyance when their opponents explode in their faces. She catches sight of Bepo crouching protectively over Aaron's huddled form. Good, the kid's okay. She spots a flash of yellow further along the deck and sprints towards it. Disemboweling Penguin's opponent with a negligent wave and shoving her friend out of the way, Kyra freezes in shock and fear when her view of Law is no longer impeded.

Her captain is bleeding, favoring one leg, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. His spotted cap is askew, a deep gash slicing across one cheek. He is panting heavily, his right hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his long sword. He glances towards her through the rain for half a second; the look in his eyes in unreadable before he once more focuses his attention on the foe across from him.

Merrick.

The bastard spots her and gives a friendly wave. "Hello, lovey. It's so nice of you to join us. I asked your little friends to fetch you, but they were strangely reluctant to do so. Have you been telling stories about me, lovey-dearest?" The newly-minted Rear Admiral is standing on the deck of Law's submarine, looking completely relaxed and without a scratch on him. His Marine uniform works wonders to emphasize the plainness of his face. He could be anybody, any normal man who has dedicated his life to the symbol of justice on his back.

Except he's not.

Kyra is between Merrick and Law in the time it takes to blink, black magic rolling out of her skin to rise up in the air like smoke. Her soaked hair whips wildly around her face, and she knows that it is not only because of the roaring winds. She can hear the growls shaking her body as they explode out of her chest, can sense Law's tense form close at her back and smell the blood from his wounds. The scent drives her farther into the red haze of uncontrollable fury that rides her.

"You fucking bastard," the enraged sorceress snarls, settling low in a crouch that will give her excellent push when she lunges. **_"I'm going to kill you."_**

Merrick's eyes widen slightly at the change that occurs in Kyra's voice. An incredulous smirk spreads across his unremarkable face.

"Oh lovey," he croons, so softly that Kyra almost misses it under camouflage of the rain and wind. "You really are perfect, aren't you? Much more so than that pathetic fool behind you. Is this how it always is? You protecting your man when it is he that should protect you? How unworthy for you."

Howling in rage, Kyra shoves off from her low position and practically flies at him. Her fists are encased in black, one of them pulled back to bury itself in Merrick's face. He barely manages to dodge, his reflexes lightning fast as he darts away from her with that smile still planted firmly on his lips.

"I know why your shaman's rituals failed now, Kyra-lovey," Merrick whispers as he artfully dodges a rope of black energy that lashes out on a collision course with his head. "You had already formed a soul bond with this pirate, hadn't you? It must have been so amusing for you, watching the old fool struggle to bond us and knowing it would never work."

She doesn't bother trying to reply, focusing instead on gathering her magic in a tightly compressed ball that she then throws in Merrick's direction. It explodes outward before he can dodge, ripping into his face and the right side of his chest to tear chunks out in a satisfying hit. Kyra relishes the idea of his pain, gloating over the blood that quickly stains his perfect white uniform red. It doesn't matter that the wounds heal themselves almost immediately; Merrick has been made to bleed. Kyra plans on the submarine receiving a fresh coat of scarlet.

The mad scientist turned Navy officer tries to look just as nonchalant as ever, but the sorceress has no trouble picking up the tense set of his body along with the glint of something burning behind his eyes.

"Have you met my father yet, lovey?"

The question is casual, polite, and carries such a furious undercurrent of anger that the soaked hairs on the back of Kyra's neck spring to attention.

"He's very curious about you. He's a little busy at the moment; he wanted a reunion with an uncle of mine that he hasn't seen in a few millennia. I think he knows you, as a matter of fact. Really, lovey, I had no idea you were acquainted with one of my many strange relatives."

With all the speed of a predator going in for the kill, Merrick crosses the space separating them and grabs Kyra by the neck, jerking her off her feet to dangle in the air. She gags, bringing her hands up to latch onto his arm and tries to blow it up.

Nothing happens.

"Ah, ah, not this time, lovey. Father has given me a little added protection. I'm somewhat more durable than I used to be."

A long blade swings towards them out of nowhere. Merrick jerks to avoid being cut, his grip loosening slightly in his distraction. Kyra is able to yank free, falling to the deck and rolling to give herself some space before springing back to her feet. A jolt runs through her upon seeing Law standing much too close to Merrick, nodachi held ready to take another swipe. She throws herself towards him, flinging up a shield as Merrick reaches for the Dark Doctor.

**_"Don't you_ _touch him!"_**

Merrick catches her fist in his hand and yanks her towards him as her shield shoves Law back to form a dome around the shouting pirate. She tunes out whatever he might be saying as she uses her free hand to jab Merrick in the ribs, immensely pleased when she feels his bones shatter under the force of the blow.

_**"You**_ -" - punch to the gut - "- **_don't_** -" - foot to the instep - "- _**touch**_ -" - elbow to the sternum - "- **_him!"_**

Merrick doesn't seem terribly phased by the beating he is receiving. He talks to her in a calm, level tone over the sounds of his own bones breaking as though conversing over afternoon tea.

"I have a little job I need you to do for me, lovey. It shouldn't be too difficult for someone with your particular gifts. I just need you to track someone down and kill them for me. The World Government and the Navy would be very thankful. They'd even be willing to lift you and your pretty captain to the level of Shichibukai and suspend the impressive bounties tied to your heads. Won't you hear my proposal, lovey?"

_**"Fuck your proposal!"**_ Kyra grabs Merrick around the neck and tries to rip his head off.

Pure, unadulterated agony. It strikes with the swiftness of a cobra, snatching Kyra in its clutches and dropping her to her knees in an instant. Apparently whatever the Divine had been doing to shield her from the pain of having her heart used as a stress ball has worn off. Flashes of white burst before her eyes until they obscure her vision entirely. She can hear herself screaming, can hear Law's voice somewhere in the background.

"Dammit, Kyra! Take this fucking shield down! _Kyra!"_

Wait, that can't be Law; in two years she's never once heard the man cuss like that. And anyway, she's not going to remove the shield. Merrick will kill her damnably hard headed captain unless she keeps him safe.

The Rear Admiral's fingers yank painfully on her hair, his lips brushing her ear as he whispers under cover of her screams.

"You're going to find Marshal D. Teach for me, lovey. You're going to find the Yonkou Blackbeard and you're going to kill him. You do this simple little task, and all your troubles will blow away. You'll never be hunted by the Navy again. No one under association with the World Government will ever again hound your footsteps. Your precious Heart Pirates will be safe from retribution for their numerous crimes. My father and I will hold on to your heart until such time as your task is complete. Don't worry, lovey; I promise we will take _very_ good care of it."

Inhuman roars. Magic so thick the very air feels heavy. Tremors rocking the deck of the sub. The unbearable pressure on her heart is lifted once again, and Kyra's magic immediately throws Merrick away from her. A heavy arm instantly wraps around her waist and yanks her up into a chest covered in fur. Growls reverberate from the body through her back as wind whips her hair away and she spots Merrick rising to his feet through the torrential downpour. A man appears next to him, a man of perfect proportions with flawless alabaster skin and a magnificent set of wings the color of a setting sun. Eyes like red rubies pierce her in appraisal.

Merrick's father is every bit as glorious as the Divine who holds Kyra so tightly, and every bit as terrifying. In one of its hands rests a human heart.

Kyra's heart.

**_I do not wish to fight you, my brother._ **The mental voice tears through Kyra's mind like a migraine as the arm around her tightens.**_ Return my little one's heart to her at once, and there shall be no quarrel between us._**

The new one responds out loud. "Your terms are fair, brother. I have no grievance against you or your little human. And yet I must decline for the sake of my son, who you have sworn to kill. I will not further harm the human woman. As my son said, we will return her heart when the task she has been given is completed." Rich and smooth, calmly arrogant just like the Divine. The other creature spreads its rosy wings slightly, still studying Kyra intently. "It is a pleasure to meet you, little human. You have my thanks for the service you have done for my brother. Your heart will be well cared for. We will meet again soon."

And in a flurry of feathers Merrick's father shields him from view before they both vanish into thin air.

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><p>Trafalgar Law is not a happy man.<p>

The fight is long over. The holes in his submarine have been mended and the water expelled by his magician under the careful eye of the mechanic Haru. The wounded have been treated. Gable has followed orders and submerged. Aside from a bandage or two, there is no sign that anything out of the ordinary has happened today.

And still Law is not happy.

_Do you really think you can keep her forever,_ _Trafalgar Law? A woman as powerful and magnificent as_ _our dearest Kyra? You are nothing but a pathetic little pirate._

He sits alone in his infirmary, scowling at nothing as the events of the day replay within his mind.

_She isn't meant for you, Captain Law. Kyra's destined for far greater things than some pointless quest for a mystical treasure and your sad little dream of being the King of the Pirates. She's mine, you know; soon enough she will realize this as well. She'll return to me of her own free will._

In one hand the surgeon clutches a delicate necklace, made of gold and shaped like half a broken heart. A fine filigreed ring dangles next to the heart pendant, glinting silver in the light of the room.

_Why don't you_ _give this back to her, Law. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have a reminder of her dearly departed mother. Here, hold still now won't you? I'm afraid I'll have to punish you somewhat for taking what belongs to me. I'm sure you understand._

His shoulder still aches fiercely. He knows that he should find Kyra and get her to heal it, or at least remove his hoodie so that he can wash and sew the wound himself. He does neither; simply sits in his hospital bay and stares at the bauble in his hand.

_You're in far over your head here, you know. You might have one of those delightful Devil Fruit abilities, but when push comes to shove you're still just a normal human man. Do you really think it wise to tangle with immortals? Wouldn't it be so much easier to simply step aside? Let her go, before you get yourself and your little flunkies slaughtered like cattle?_

Law slowly closes his fingers around the locket, squeezing so tightly that he can feel the precious metal digging sharply into his palm.

_Just give up, pirate._

His cheek twitches; the pain reminds him of the gash to his face.

_She's mine._

He should really treat it before infection sets in.

A warm hand settles gently over the wound before Law can move, its partner hovering just in front of the hole in his shoulder. He looks up to see that his magician has entered the infirmary at some point and is now standing mere inches away from him. She is leaning towards him at an awkward angle over his legs as she heals his wounds without a word. Equally silent, Law uses his uninjured hand to coax Kyra into his lap until she straddles his thighs. There's no reason for her to strain herself trying to help him and not do so from a comfortable position. It is not as if their relationship is a secret to anyone on this vessel.

They sit thus for a long time after Kyra finishes, Law unable to look away from the woman perched atop him and Kyra apparently fascinated with his hoodie to the point where she refuses to meet the surgeon's gaze. The argument from this morning,the words from the newest Rear Admiral, and the complete absence of Kyra's heart all linger like an elephant in the room. Neither of them particularly wants to begin the necessary conversation. Law eventually clears his throat and opens his mouth to break the unpleasant silence.

"The Divine's gone," Kyra blurts out without bothering to raise her head. "I made it leave. I don't know where it went or if it's coming back at some point. I really don't care, if it's not here at least it's not harassing me. It did say that my random mood swings are caused by the upsurge in stored magic that results in not being allowed to use my powers, so can we not do that anymore? I'm tired of going from homicidal fury to wanting to bawl my eyes out every ten seconds."

Law hums his permission, one hand roving up and down his magician's back and the other removing her fingers from his face before sliding down to cup her hip. He had given the order for Kyra not to use her powers in an effort to see if the Divine could still track her. Surely not, if her greatest tie to the creature is the magic it bestowed upon her while she was little more than a fetus in her mother's womb? That theory has now been blown out of the water, so there is no reason for Kyra to abstain any longer. The absence of her violent mood swings will be quite welcome; he does not want any more repeats of the scene this morning.

_How could I ever forget that you're in charge and I'm just your bitch?_

Law pauses in his ministrations, frowning slightly.

_Oh wait, that's right, I'm a tool._

"You are not simply a tool to me."

His sudden words slice through the infirmary as efficiently as any scalpel. Kyra tenses in his lap, still staring fixedly at the grinning Jolly Roger on his hoodie. Law does not force her to meet his gaze, does not try to elaborate. There is no need to speak further, as far as the Dark Doctor is concerned. Kyra made an accusation earlier that is false. Law has now informed her of that mistake. The matter is settled.

"I believe it would be beneficial to us if you were to pay a visit to the Yonkou Red-Haired Shanks. If I remember correctly, Shanks owes you a favor. We need to pinpoint the location of Blackbeard as quickly as possible so that you may kill him in the near future. Rest tonight. Tomorrow I will accompany you to Shanks' ship and we will see what he can tell us."

Kyra huffs slightly, finally glancing up with those pretty blue eyes. "You're in a hurry all of a sudden. How many times have I tried to bribe you to go after that fat-ass?"

Law tightens his hold on her, leaning down to peer with the utmost seriousness into orbs like the sea. "Blackbeard's death has never before been a priority. Now it is."

His magician actually looks mildly confused. "Why?"

Why? What a foolish question. He taps her spine over the space where her heart should rest. "Merrick has something I want back. Killing Blackbeard ensures its return."

She stares at him as though he has sprouted a pair of antlers. "How is that? Merrick's got my heart, Law. Do you really think he's going to give it back if we kill Teach just because he said he would? Fat fucking chance. I know him, there's no way in hell he's just going to hand us my heart with a 'thanks a bunch, guys' and let us sail off scot free. And I'd bet anything the offer to become Shichibukai was bullshit. Well, not for you, but for me? The government wants to put me back in their labs and cut me open again. That's what they've always planned. There's no way in hell they'd make me a Shichibukai."

"I am not interested in being a government dog. The title of Warlord holds no appeal to me." Law smooths long fingers over Kyra's back to ease her forward until they are touching from collar bone to belly. He does not object when she leans her forehead against his shoulder and sighs, fisting her own fingers in his clothing. "I do not care about any of Mr. Merrick's proffered rewards except the return of your heart. If Mr. Teach has to die for that to occur, then his days are numbered."

"What if he won't give it back?" she whispers, and Law's sensitive ears barely pick up on the fear in her overly quiet voice. "What happens then? What are we going to do when Blackbeard's dead and Merrick reneges on his promises?"

Law is silent, something in his gut clenching in regards to his own insecurities about the Rear Admiral's words. What _will_ they do should worse come to worst? Merrick is not a normal human. He is aware of the weakness to Law's Devil Fruit abilities, is strong and fast enough to take advantage of them, and appears to know exactly what buttons to push in order to break Law's concentration. He has that inhuman father on his side, as well as the Navy and by extension the World Government. How in Roger's name can the Surgeon of Death and the Demon Witch hope to take that kind of united front on single handed should Kyra's heart be withheld after Blackbeard's demise?

"Would the Divine be willing to retrieve it for you, should his brother and nephew attempt to go back on their word?"

His magician shudders against him, tightening her grip in his hoodie. She does not answer his question, but her reaction to it is answer enough.

"We will regain your heart, Kyra. One way or another. It's ours, after all, and it will be a cold day in Hell before I allow the likes of Merrick to keep something so important."

The girl stiffens in his arms, her fingers in danger of tearing a hole in his clothing. "...Ours?"

Law slips his hand under her shirt and caresses the bare skin of her hip, rubbing the cold metal of her dead mother's necklace against her flesh. "Is it not?"

There is a long, long moment during which his magician is silent and stiff. He waits patiently, allowing her the time she needs to gather her courage before giving the reply they both know is the truth. Eventually Kyra relaxes against him once again, slipping her arms around his waist in a loose embrace. Her voice is muffled when she speaks, her face pressed against the fabric of his hoodie, but the Dark Doctor hears her loud and clear.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

Much later, when the sun has slipped below the horizon and the men have long since retired for the night, Law leans against the wall across from the bed in his room and watches his magician sleep. Her rest is a fitful one; she tosses and turns, twisting the sheets into knots and groaning as though in pain. Those delicate, dangerous hands grope blindly across the mattress in search of something. Pushing away from the wall, the surgeon perches on the edge of his bed and puts one of his hands in the path of hers. Questing fingers latch onto his own digits like a shipwreck victim clinging to a piece of driftwood. Kyra instantly relaxes, letting out a contented sigh as she sinks deeper into unconsciousness.

He will not be joining her in their shared dreams tonight. Too many things chase each other around his mind to allow the oblivion of sleep.

Law has a decision to make.

Kyra is his greatest weakness. As a man who knows his own failings, Law has no problem silently admitting as much. The fight today against Merrick had adequately illustrated just how much of a hindrance she is to him. All Merrick had to do to throw the Dark Doctor off balance was to mention her. It is highly unlikely that the Rear Admiral would have overlooked such a thing. Merrick will doubtlessly use it against him the next time they meet. If Kyra happens to be fighting by his side at that time, she will become distracted trying to protect him and will leave herself open for attack. She has shown with her meltdown today that she is too emotionally connected to that foe to be able to fight him in a detached manner. This is the man who tortured her for years when she was a child. This is the man who killed her mother. There are multiple reasons for Kyra to become enraged during a fight with Merrick, but it will not be to her benefit. The naval officer is simply too dangerous an opponent when one loses one's focus.

Law cannot afford to have Kyra around when next he fights Rear Admiral Rafe Merrick. She will serve as too great a distraction at a time when he will not be able to afford one, and the likelihood of the woman sustaining serious injury trying to protect him and the crew is high. Likewise, Kyra will definitely be more reckless than usual with her own wellbeing on their quest to kill Blackbeard and regain her heart. Powerful she may be, but Law's magician is not immortal. There is a great probability that she might end up dead by the end of this business. Dead, gone, beyond his reach forever.

This is unacceptable. The Surgeon of Death therefore has only one option.

After some time, he carefully disentangles his fingers and stands. Law ignores the renewed mutterings of his slumbering magician as he exits his bedchamber and shuts the door quietly behind him. The galley, when the captain reaches it, is deserted and dark but for the light over the stove. He sits in his customary seat at the head of the table and lets his eyes drift closed, deliberating for a long moment in silence.

"Are you watching us tonight, Mr. Divine? If so, kindly take the time to relocate to my sub. There is something I wish to discuss with you."

* * *

><p>"You're acting weird," Kyra informs her escort the next morning as Bepo leads her to the galley, where he says the captain is waiting for her. The fluffy bear twitches slightly, his ears flattening themselves against his head, but does not reply. The walk to the galley is completed in the type of silence that sets Kyra's nerves on edge. This is just odd. Bepo is never this quiet around her. He is practically radiating an aura of total depression, his whole body drooping even as they move closer to the galley. Aaron is not with him, either. The bear's odd behavior only adds to the sorceress' trepidation. All of her stuff had been gone from the room she shares with Law when she woke this morning, only a set of clean clothing laid out for her. And if Law really does have something important to say to her, as Bepo claims, why didn't he just wake her up and tell her? None of this is making any sense.<p>

The presence of a certain winged immortal in the Heart Pirates' galley when they arrive even less so.

Kyra stiffens in shock the instant she spots the Divine standing much too close to Law in this favored room of the ship that is her home. Its arms are crossed firmly over its chest, wings half-spread and a brooding look about its face. Law's expression is just as worrisome, his signature grin replaced by an almost... sad frown. At his feet sits a familiar satchel bulging with what she would bet money are her belongings.

What the hell?

Kyra hovers in the doorway, wanting to go to her captain but not wanting to be anywhere near the monster keeping him company. The Dark Doctor solves this dilemma by stooping to pick up her satchel and crossing the floor to stand before her, holding out the bag as though offering it to her. When Kyra makes no move to take it, Law quietly walks around behind her and very gently manipulates her arms into the straps until they rest on her shoulders. The surgeon then wraps his arms around her middle in a tight embrace, burying his face against the side of her neck over the Jolly Roger and inhaling deeply. Bepo is shaking slightly as though trying not to cry. The Divine is watching them with a mixture of fury and despair, and Law is holding onto her like she's going to vanish off the face of the earth as soon as he steps away.

Kyra is officially freaked out.

"Law?" she murmurs, her voice much quieter than she intends. His behavior is scaring her. The magic gathers just beneath her skin so as to be easily accessible should it be needed. "What's going on? Bepo said you wanted to talk to me. What's wrong?"

Law says nothing for a long moment, simply holds her close and breathes in her scent as though trying to memorize it. When he does speak, it is immediately plain that he is not addressing Kyra.

"You'll abide by our agreement?"

Across from them, the Divine's wings flex slightly. "I shall. The boy has already been safely deposited with a human family that will see to his continued wellbeing. My little one will likewise be sent somewhere safe, and I will watch over her from afar as I have done until now. I will not fight against my brother, but I will protect her in my own way."

"Sent somewhere?" Kyra blurts, interrupting the two as she begins to squirm in Law's embrace. "What does that mean? Law? Where's Aaron? What's it mean 'send me somewhere safe'? I'm not going anywhere!"

The notorious scoundrel whom she has fallen so in love with does not answer. It is the monstrously perfect immortal who responds to her panicky questions.

"The boy is gone now, little one. I have sent him away for his own safety, as your lover did not believe it wise to allow him to remain with you. He will be well cared for; you need not worry for him. As to your other inquiry, the human and I have decided that it is no longer feasible for you to continue your journey with these men. I will be sending you to travel with others who owe you favors for past deeds performed, two of whom you have met before. It will be safer for you there than here with these pirates."

**_WHAT?_**

_"NO!_ That's bullshit! You can't just send me away! I don't need to be protected!" Kyra is fighting Law's hold in earnest now, desperate to get loose so that she can turn and see his face. Surely this isn't really happening. Surely Law wouldn't really banish her like some kind of burden. "I can help! For Roger's sake, it's _my_ fucking heart on the line, not one of yours! Don't I get a say in this? How are you even going to kill Teach if I'm not there? His Devil Fruit will just cancel yours out, Law, you'll be a sitting duck! You think this _thing_ is going to step in and keep you from getting slaughtered? Don't do this, Law, you need me!"

She finally manages to tear free, whirling around and grabbing her captain's face between her hands. His grey eyes are closed. The frown seems permanently carved into his face. Long fingers curl around her hips to pull her close as Law leans his forehead blindly towards her own until contact is made. Kyra vaguely registers the feel of something being dropped into her pocket as the Surgeon of Death's hot breath washes over her face.

Law's eyes open. They stare at each other for a long moment, communicating without words even as the mage's ears pick up the sound of approaching footsteps from behind her. Kyra's grip on Law's skull tightens. Her breathing and heart rate skyrocket in panic. No, she won't leave him. She's not leaving the crew. She won't let them go off without her to die, damn it! **_NO!_**

Unwanted hands settle on tense shoulders. Magic is forced from within a terrified girl. A black cocoon begins at her feet and travels slowly upwards, and all the while Trafalgar Law stands there with his gaze fixed on Kyra's face. At the last possible moment, the Dark Doctor leans in and claims the Demon Witch's mouth in a kiss. It is not short and sweet; it is not brimming with the usual passion.

It is a farewell.

He whispers against her lips as the blackness swallows her, seven little words that have her reeling just as much as the disorientation when her power dissipates and she finds herself standing on the deck of an unfamiliar ship. There are people, pirates that have stopped whatever they might have previously been doing to stare at the woman who has just appeared out of thin air. Other ships flank this one. Calls ring through the air along with laughter and music. Kyra can't process any of it. She immediately tries to teleport back to Law, only to be dumped on the same ship in the exact same place. She tries again; and again; and again, those seven words spoken by her captain-lover-friend echoing over and over again in her mind.

Eventually she collapses onto the strange deck, the futility of her actions finally sinking in. The Divine has sent her here and ensured that she cannot return. Kyra is cut off from the sub, from Bepo and Jambarl and Penguin and Sachi... cut off from Law...

_Law..._

A tentative hand settles lightly on her shoulder. Kyra raises tearful blue eyes to this intruder on her grief, unable to feel surprise at the sight of Fire Fist Ace or Straw Hat Luffy hovering anxiously behind him. The pyromaniac gives her a gentle squeeze, squatting down so that he is at her level and reaching to put his free hand on one of her knees.

"Kyra?" he inquires softly, black eyes scanning her face as more people cluster around them. The others on the ship have realized that they have a new guest.

"Hey, Kyra!" Straw Hat blurts out, sounding halfway ecstatic to see her and halfway worried. "It's awesome to see you again! You can meet all of my nakama! Hey, why are you crying? Are you okay?"

Is she okay?

Law is gone. Kyra can't get back to him. He is sailing towards Marshal D. Teach in a quest for the other man's head, bent on killing him for the miniscule chance at recovering Kyra's heart from the fiends that have taken it. He is going without her, having allowed the Divine to send her away because he is worried for her safety but gives no thought to his own or that of the crew.

That fucking idiot.

_I love you, my magician._

Is she okay?

_Be safe._

Kyra puts her hands in her hair and screams.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra is my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>The Demon Witch does not move from her huddled place on the deck of the Thousand Sunny when polished black dress shoes enter her line of vision. She does not raise her head to acknowledge Black Leg Sanji or to thank him for the aromatic plate which he sets next to her. The food is likewise ignored, even as the Straw Hat's cook leans against the railing a short distance away and lights up a cigarette, obviously waiting for Kyra to finish eating so that he can reclaim her dishes.<p>

She's not in the mood for food.

Despite her exhaustive efforts, Kyra remains stuck here on the wrong ship. Teleporting has been a complete bust; physically and mentally screaming demands for the Divine to take her back to the submarine has achieved only a headache and sore throat. She is trapped, an unwilling guest of the Straw Hat Pirates for the foreseeable future.

The only bright spot in her plight is one that comes from an unbelievably lucky break. As fate would have it, the rubber retard and his human torch of a brother have just yesterday met up with the remnants of Whitebeard's devastated but still incredibly powerful crew. Luffy and his friends are now sailing with the dangerous fleet, led by Marco the Phoenix - Whitebeard's former first division commander. Their armada is cutting through the seas, course set on wherever Marshall D. Teach happens to be lurking. Whitebeard's adopted spawn all have one hell of a grudge against the fat bastard, due in part to the newest Yonkou's desertion of their crew years ago plus his role in Newgate's death. Recent events unknown to Kyra have apparently galvanized them into seeking his blood.

Fire Fist Ace, who was once the commander of Blackbeard's division, wishes to go with his old crew due to a sense of duty. Straw Hat Luffy, whose brother was taken to Marinefold and killed right in front of him because of Teach, wants to go so that he can pound the other man's massive ass into the ground with his bare hands. The Divine has dumped Kyra in the middle of some of the most dangerous and powerful pirates on any of the seas, all of whom are sailing directly towards the destination Law was apparently so desperate to keep her away from.

Oh, the beauty of chance.

_I love you, my magician._

The sorceress hunches even further over her drawn-up legs, hugging them tightly as she rests her head on her knees.

_Stay safe._

"Hey."

Kyra shifts slightly to indicate that she is listening, not having the will to raise her eyes to the man standing beside her. She hears Fire Fist Ace heave a slight sigh before he folds himself down to sit cross-legged on the deck, hands gripping his ankles as he gives her a scrutinizing glance.

"Sanji didn't try to hug you again, did he?"

A negative shake of the head is given in reply. This is a valid question, as the somewhat perverted chef had practically thrown himself at Kyra during the introductions to the crew a few hours ago. He had in turn been chucked into the sea by her powers. The green-haired swordsman - Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro of Supernova fame - nearly had a stroke, he had been laughing so hard as the long-nosed weapons expert jumped in after their KO'd cook.

"Then how come you're not chowing down? Trust me on this one, Sanji's a freakin' fantastic cook. Luffy told me he grew up on a ship that also acted as a restaurant, and he was the best hash-slinger on board. His food's to die for." The only child of Gol D. Roger cocks his head slightly in confusion. "Aren't you hungry? You've been here all day and haven't eaten anything. Chopper's going to start wondering if you're sick or something, poor thing'll try to get you in his office for a check-up."

_You'll come to me for weekly check-ups until I'm satisfied with your progress._

_Hot, moist lips against her neck._

"I don't need a check-up."

Kyra's voice is low, raspy like she's been crying, and very firm. The tiny talking reindeer seems sweet and all, but she already has a doctor. She will be examined by him or no one.

Ace shrugs, releasing his ankles to bring his hands behind his head and scratch at his scalp in an absentminded fashion.

_She burrows her face further into Law's lap, practically mewling in pleasure._

_Funny how your abortive lobotomy has made your scalp so sensitive to touch, my magician. What other places react in such a way? Let's find out, shall we?_

"Y'know, if you finish eating that we could probably talk Sanji into making you some of those little sweet cakes he likes to cook up for Nami and Robin. Luffy and me steal them all the time; they're really tasty. Do you like sweet stuff?" Ace turns his head and calls out to the smoking cook without waiting for a reply. "Hey, Sanji, can you make her some desserts?"

_Law, your cook's a fucking moron. I thought you said he was a pastry chef back in North Blue? Well then he should know if he puts that much cream in the recipe for this frosting it's going to overpower the chocolate cake and give everybody __stomachaches __for the next week._

_Very astute, my magician. And while I have no trouble examining you __**thoroughly**__ as often as necessary, I'd rather not listen to the men moan. Neil, change the recipe or change the type of frosting._

Kyra lurches to her feet and spins around, making a beeline for the mast. Ace says something behind her, but she is not listening. As soon as she gets a handhold on the rung of the ladder leading up to the crow's nest she is climbing, up and up and up; away from the memories assaulting her; away from Law's face on the surface of the water; away from the crippling depression and blinding rage trying to strangle her. Depression because it will be weeks, even months before she sees Law again and she needs him so bad she physically aches with it. Rage because how dare that rat bastard go behind her back like this and enlist that fucking monster to send her away?

"Oi. What are you doing up here, witch?"

The crow's nest is not empty as she had hoped. Roronoa Zoro is crouched across from her, an impossibly large set of weights on a bar resting across his powerful shoulders. His dark eye spears her suspiciously, serious mouth thinning in displeasure.

"Shouldn't be messing around up here, witch," he mutters gruffly as he returns to his workout, doing a series of squats with all those metallic pounds weighing him down. "Try to stay out of my way so I don't hurt you. The shitty love-cook'd be a pain in my ass if that happened."

Fuckola. Is there nowhere on this too bright, too big, too open ship where one might go to be alone? Kyra settles for slumping against the wall of the enclosure, making a motion with one hand that has her satchel flying through the trapdoor into her lap. She buries her face in the fabric of the bag, inhaling deeply, wishing desperately for even a whiff of Law's scent. Surprisingly this fantasy is realized, as the satchel reeks of her captain. What the hell? Opening the drawstring, a wave of antiseptic-ocean-man scent slamming into her, Kyra upends her belongings onto the floor and stares, shocked.

Her hand tentatively reaches out, brushing aside her everyday clothes, her journal and small jewelry pouch to close tightly in the fabric of a certain yellow and black hoodie. The fur hat, white and clean and neatly folded in half, is revealed to lie under it. A pronged and grinning Jolly Roger looks up at the sorceress for a moment before she crushes the apparel to her chest, fighting back sudden tears.

Law has gifted her with his favorite hoodie and ensured that she was not parted with his old hat.

_It's a fucking sauna in this sub! This hat is made of fur, Law, which means it's hot! What's the big deal, is it really going to kill you if I don't wear your hat for one freaking day?_

_I enjoy seeing you dressed in my hat. It goes well with my mark on your neck._

_Which one? The stupid bite mark or the tattoo?_

_Both, of course._

Goddamnit.

"Oi, witch."

Blue eyes are raised to meet the glare of a swordsman who has discarded his weights and is wiping sweat from his face with a towel. About half of the room lies between them, his posture is loose and relaxed, and still Kyra tenses at the threat in his gaze.

"What?" she growls defensively, cursing the hoarseness of her voice.

"I'm only going to tell you this once, so listen up." Zoro takes a step towards her, looping the towel around his neck and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I don't give a shit if your creepy boyfriend saved Luffy's life. I don't care if you brought Ace back from the dead. If you do a single thing that puts my captain or my crew in danger, I'll cut you into pieces. Got it? I don't want you bitching later that I didn't give you some kind of warning."

What, bitching after he kills her that he didn't say something first? Yeah, 'cause that is _really_ going to happen.

"You can't kill me," Kyra scoffs, waving her hand dismissively. "You can't touch me with those blades of yours, and if you tried I'd tear _you_ into pieces without lifting a finger. And don't talk about my captain; you don't know him or anything about him."

"Whatever," is the grumbled reply, the green-haired man stomping over to his trio of swords and slipping them into the haramaki wrapped around his waist. A green coat and what appears to be a red sash are picked up as well, rolled into a ball to be carried easily under one arm as Zoro heads to the ladder leading down to the deck.

Jerk.

Kyra curls up on the floor when the swordsman is gone, nose buried in Law's hoodie as her mind runs in a million different directions. Why here? Why did the Divine think she would be safe on this ship, with this crew? So Straw Hat is insanely strong and Fire Fist owes her his life - big freaking deal. Roronoa Zoro has just made it abundantly clear that he doesn't trust her worth shit and would have no qualms killing her if given the chance. The two women she was introduced to earlier have both steered clear of the visiting sorceress in the intervening hours, as have the walking skeleton, the half-naked cyborg, the long nosed weapons expert and the talking reindeer. The cook has already tried to molest her once and it hasn't even been a full day yet. Whitebeard's brats have eyed her warily, clearing remembering her from Marineford and just as clearly trying to decide whether they'd be better off making Straw Hat toss her ass overboard at the next possible opportunity.

_I love you, my magician._

The words stab at her, hurting worse than any blade ever could. Why did he say that to her? Why did he say that and then send her away?

_I love you._

The sorceress is unsure how long she stays there, curled up in a tight ball on the floor. She doesn't know when she starts to weep, or if the fabric of Law's hoodie is sufficient to muffle the sounds of her grief. Time loses all meaning to her, the whole world shrinking down to Law's scent and his absence and the terrible ache caused by both.

When her tears are finally spent and Kyra becomes aware of her surroundings once more, she raises wary eyes to examine the person who has joined her at some point in her wallowing. Is the rude swordsman back, come to gawk at her in this moment of weakness? But no, her visitor is someone slightly more intimidating - the Zoan Devil Fruit user, Phoenix Marco, is crouched just away from the lip of the trapdoor, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

"Is this it?" The question is asked in a tone of extreme disappointment. Kyra draws as far away from Marco as possible without actually getting up and moving, pressing her back into the wall and Law's hoodie into her chest. Sleepy orbs narrow slightly at her movement, but no comment is made. Instead the let-down voice continues.

"I remember you from Marineford, yoi. I remember standing with Pops on his ship and watching you kill Marines by the dozens with nothing more than a gesture or two. I watched you punch full grown soldiers and make their heads blow up like overripe fruit. Pops knew you for less than half a day, and he respected your strength, your determination to reach the Buddha and beat his ass to a pulp. He'd even started considering adding you to our family if he'd made it out of there alive."

The sorceress listens dully as the phoenix relates this information, wondering if his rambling has a point. So what if Whitebeard liked her? The old geezer didn't even know her. And she'd already killed one father, she sure as shit didn't need a second, thank you very much.

"Do you have any idea how ecstatic we all were when Ace turned up alive because of you? We ate and drank and celebrated to your name. You were like a hero to us, yoi. Every one of the surviving Whitebeard pirates swore we'd do anything for you if you ever came to us in the future asking for help. You brought our brother back from the dead. Nothing we could ever do would repay you for that, yoi.

"And then you show up here today, and every illusion we've had about you has been completely trashed."

Kyra shifts slightly, fingers tightening in the material of her captain's favored apparel. "What illusions?"

Marco shrugs, staring at her as though she has just taken all of his childhood dreams and burned them into ash. "We thought you were strong. We were kind of counting on it. Here was a girl who could control impossible strength, who actually landed a hit on Teach, who might be able to kill him. Now we get to see you as the weak little crybaby you really are, yoi."

"What do you know, you overgrown parrot?" Kyra snaps, furious at his implications. "It's not my fucking problem what you and your little ragtag family thought about me. I don't give a fuck about whatever expectations you might have. I don't owe you shit! I don't even want to be here, alright? So don't bitch at me or I'll show you just how fucking weak I am!"

The pineapple-head snorts, unimpressed. "It's a little hard to be intimidated by someone who's been bawling and moping all day, yoi. What are you going to do, sob on me? It would take a lot of salt water to incapacitate me, crybaby."

Why is this bastard pushing all her buttons on purpose?

"Hm, is that why your captain threw you away? Tired of carting around a crybaby?"

WHAT!

Kyra has a hand around Marco's throat in an instant, magic exploding out of her in black waves, completely enraged and totally ignoring the fact that blue flames cover most of the man's body.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY YOU SON OF A BITCH! DON'T YOU _EVER_ TALK ABOUT LAW, YOU DON'T KNOW A FUCKING THING ABOUT HIM! HE DIDN'T THROW ME AWAY, YOU FUCKING GLORIFIED CHICKEN! DON'T YOU _EVER_ SAY THAT AGAIN! _**HE DIDN'T!**__"_

The fire engulfing the phoenix does not burn her skin, but the talons that rake down her abdomen as the creature twists and turns in its effort to get out of Kyra's grasp do a fine job of tearing her shirt and flesh. She releases him with a snarl even as her powers heal the damage, watching through angry eyes as he resumes his human form and straightens up to stand tall with his hands in his pockets.

"See, now _that's_ more like it," Marco states in a perfectly calm tone of voice, as if he didn't just come inches from having his head removed from his shoulders. _"That's_ the girl I remember. Where has she been hiding all day, eh?"

"Fuck you!" Kyra spits at him, furious and upset and wishing like hell he would just leave her alone. "You think you have a right to judge me, phoenix? You can take your judgements and shove them were the sun doesn't shine for all I care! Yeah, I've got freakish powers. But guess what, asshole? I'm - still - human! I feel pain! I get depressed! After all the things that have gone wrong in my life lately, I'd be perfectly justified to cry a fucking ocean's worth of tears!"

She spins on her heel, stalking back to snatch up Law's hoodie. In short order it has been donned, along with the fur hat, while her other belongings are deposited back in her satchel with the twitch of a finger. Kyra stands still in the silent crow's nest for a long moment, examining the way the hoodie's too-long sleeves cover part of her hands. Hands. Law's hands. A weight in her pocket at that last moment.

_I love you, my magician. Stay safe._

The locket is in her palm faster than thought, her mother's ring glinting in the dying sunlight. The half-heart locket as well; trinkets lost to her nearly two years ago during her stint as a prisoner on Veneficus. Merrick must have given them to Law for whatever nefarious purpose during the fight yesterday. Now Law has given them back, knowing exactly how much it means to her. The hoodie, the hat, the jewelry...

_I love you, my magician._

Fuck.

Her teleportation sphere is kind enough to deposit her on the Thousand Sunny's deck right in front of Ace just as she wants, even if the damn thing still refuses to return her to Law. Fire Fist looks rather startled by her abrupt arrival, opening his mouth as though to say something and immediately being cut off.

"Tell me about Blackbeard's Devil Fruit abilities," Kyra demands. "And fight me. Fight first, actually, I need to beat the shit out of something."

The color drains from freckled cheeks as Ace stutters foolishly. The pirates who were talking to him moments ago, some of Whitebeard's brats that Kyra isn't familiar with, quickly start backing away. Soon there is a twenty-foot circle of clear deck surrounding the sorceress and the fire user, who for some reason seems to be sweating profusely.

"Um... when you say 'beat the shit out of something'..."

Is Fire Fist trembling? Kyra brushes it off, looping her mother's locket over her neck and pulling Law's old hat down more securely on her head. Black magic oozes from her skin to coat her arms from elbow to fingertips.

"Oh, _hell_ no!"

"The flaming chicken wants to see me the way I was in Marineford, and you're made out of fire. You can heal whatever damage you get, right? So what's wrong?"

"I've heard all the stories about you from Marineford, that's the problem!" Ace's hands are up, palms facing her as though to ward Kyra off. His shoulders, one thigh, and the opposite ankle have started to burn. "I like my head the way it is, thank you very much. Just because I control fire doesn't mean I want you pounding on me!"

Kyra huffs in annoyance, swiveling to fix narrowed eyes on the crow's nest and the man currently descending from it. "Guess that means you'll have to be the punching bag if you want that demonstration, birdie. It has to be somebody either literally indestructible or who can regenerate. That's your forte, right? Phoenix healing and all that?"

There is a pause during which Marco regards her quietly through listless eyes. At last he sinks into a defensive crouch, blue and gold flames beginning to cover his body. "Alright then, Demon Witch. Let's see what you can do, yoi."

For the first time all day, Kyra allows a smirk to grace her lips. She's done crying. She's done showing weakness around these people, done broadcasting how fiercely she aches for Law and her crew. If Kyra is to be trapped here, she will not have rival pirates thinking that the Heart Pirates are a bunch of pathetic pushovers because their most powerful member can't turn off the waterworks. By the time the sorceress is done with Marco, the Whitebeards and the Straw Hats will all think twice before fucking with her.

The phoenix wants a show?

Kyra's going to damn well give him one.

* * *

><p>Law sits alone in the infirmary, hunched over with his head in his hands. The rest of the crew knows not to even think about bothering him right now, and his expected guest has not yet arrived. It is therefore alright for him to have this moment of weakness. Soon he will don the grinning mask he has perfected, shove all of the feelings swamping him into mental compartments, and go on as always.<p>

For now, however, he will allow those feelings free rein.

Because she is gone.

It was Law's idea. He knows that if he had mentioned it to Kyra she would have blown up in his face, threatened him with all manner of bodily harm for even considering sending her away. If she had known that her captain called the Divine into his ship, asked it to send her somewhere safe, and requested that the dream connection be temporarily severed, no doubt Kyra would have been livid with him. But Law does not care. She can be as angry as she likes, as long as she is safe. He will have her returned once he delivers Blackbeard's head to Merrick - and possibly deliver the scientist's testicles to her, if he is particularly fortunate. He'll have the immunity of a Shichibukai after Teach dies, after all.

It should bother him, the extent to which he already misses his magician after less than twenty-four hours apart. Law has ever been most at ease with his own company. He interacts with his crew, and Bepo has been a constant companion since childhood, but he has always been careful to keep the world at a distance. Strong attachments are a weakness that Law has never allowed himself to indulge in.

At least, that was true before Kyra crashed into his life.

Why did Law do it?

When she knocked him out at the auction house, he should have written her off. He could have ignored her in that bar. He could have left her unconscious form in the sushi shop for the Marines to handle. Or washed his hands of her when she ran off to Marineford. A thousand-and-one missed opportunities. Law has had countless chances in the past two years of their acquaintance to rid himself of Kyra's presence. If he had not insisted on keeping her around, these feelings would not be plaguing him now. She would not matter to him. He would not be sailing towards a fight he cannot win just on the slim chance of victory, purely for her benefit.

A simple form of entertainment. That is all Kyra was ever supposed to be. Not his lover; not someone overly important. Her absence now should not be tying his guts up in knots. Law curses himself for a fool and rises, pacing around and around the infirmary as he attempts to attain calm. The fleeting wish that he had not requested the Divine sever the dream bond, so that he might see and feel and taste his magician again, is ruthlessly shoved into the deepest recesses of his mind. The surgeon knows that he made the correct choice. The temptation to drug himself into oblivion just for the chance of being with Kyra again would have been a constant problem otherwise. He cannot afford to dwell with her in their dreams. Kyra is gone, and Law must look to the protection of the rest of his crew. They are in the New World, where unheard of dangers lurk beneath each wave and death can hide in the most harmless of creatures. A distracted mind in a pirate captain could easily spell the end for the entire crew, and Law will not subject his men to such neglect.

He _knows_ he made the right choice.

So why are his thoughts thus conflicted?

"Why do you castigate yourself in such a manner, human?"

It would appear that Law's guest has finally returned - how wonderful. Law takes only a moment to bury all the feelings away and tack on a blank face before turning his head and meeting the Divine's gaze. His voice is perfectly calm when he speaks, but the first words out of his mouth are still, "Is she safe?"

Majestic black wings spread as far as possible without breaking something in the confines of the medical bay. The Divine crosses humanoid arms over its chest with the slightest huff, an insulted look overtaking its too-beautiful features. "Have I not assured you enough that I shall see to the little one's wellbeing? She is safe, human. Those around her will protect her when the time comes."

This is not a sufficiently reassuring answer. Why should anyone need to protect Kyra? This creature promised to send her somewhere safe, which should mean that danger to her person is not going to be an issue. If she will need further shielding, when Law has sent her away so that she might be completely and utterly out of harm's way, then obviously he and the Divine have gotten their wires crossed somewhere.

Moving to the closest wall, Law leans his back against it and crosses his own arms before leveling a look at the Divine that would make a human piss himself. "Just _where_ exactly did you send my magician, hmm?"

He has suspicions, but he hopes to Roger they are false. _I will be sending you to travel with others who owe you favors for past deeds performed, two of whom you have met before. _Law has a terrible feeling he knows exactly who that refers to, and has never wanted to be wrong so much in his life. Surely the Divine would not send Kyra _there,_ not if keeping her safe is really its game.

"I have placed her in the care of the man of rubber and the man of flames. They will protect her should the need arise, with the help of their companions."

Fuck. He isn't wrong; the damned creature has put Kyra in the care of Straw Hat Luffy.

"And why have you done this?" Law is not as successful as he would like in keeping the ire from his voice. Fury is building in his gut, an intense fire beginning to spread throughout his chest, but he is well aware that he cannot use the Divine as an outlet for the growing rage. He must keep himself in check. This creature can slaughter him with a thought, just as Kyra kills on a daily basis - so attempting to peel the Divine's flesh from its bones as punishment for its screw-up is not a wise decision. Taking a scalpel to that too-beautiful body is not an option.

"I have told you: I will ensure her safety. These men will provide protection -"

"And why would my magician need protection when you sent her away to _safety?"_

A foreboding silence engulfs the infirmary. Black wings flex like shadows in the white room, while tattooed knuckles creep into a pocket to fiddle with the handle of a scalpel. Green eyes clash with grey, scowls of equal intensity marring otherwise attractive faces. The immortal and the pirate regard each other with open hostility, neither making any effort to hide the extent of their dislike.

"I have looked into her memories, Trafalgar Law."

The creature's voice speaking Law's name has his guts tying themselves in knots.

"Do you know the things that I have seen? Do you know the pain that she has suffered? How very, very alone she has been? The half-breed and that incompetent fool from my land stripped her of the joys of childhood. Do you know how she gained the scars upon her back, how young she was?"

Law says nothing. Kyra's past is not a topic that is used between them in casual conversation. He has his suspicions about the origins of the lash marks that mar his magician's flesh - he is a medical expert, has treated hundreds of different people for hundreds of different reasons, and Kyra is not the first person he has ever seen to have suffered a whipping.

"You are a human. Whatever you may think of yourself and your abilities, it is ridiculously easy for your life to end. When that happens, I will not have my little one suffer alone as she has all of her life." The Divine's tone is cool and collected, just the barest hint of fire behind his words. "She freed me from my captivity, Trafalgar Law. Do you know what it is to be imprisoned as I was, yearning for the day when the sun would caress my flesh once more? I spent thousands of years alone in the earth, waiting for the seed I planted to sprout and grow. She is the manifestation of that seed. The hardships and suffering the little one has endured are due to me. Since she has made it clear that she has no physical desire for me, I will use other methods to give her the companionship and happiness she deserves. The humans surrounding her now will offer such naturally."

Law bristles at its proselytizing. "She had companionship _here._ She was happy with _me,_ with _my_ crew."

The Divine graces Law with a look of exasperated patience, like a grown-up explaining something simple to an obtuse child. "And if your crew is annihilated, who would she have then? If you and the humans under your command die in your attempts to kill your foe and regain little Kyra's heart, who will be there for her to ensure she does not kill herself in an effort to join you?"

Law is silent for a moment, turning the creature's words over in his mind. What it says is not entirely inaccurate. It is true that Kyra has no attachments to any outside of himself and his crew. She has a few people who owe her favors, like Straw Hat Luffy or Red-Haired Shanks, but no real friends. Law is not a fool. He is well aware that his current mission of killing Blackbeard could very easily result in his death. However...

"Kyra possesses the ability to bring the dead back to life," he calmly points out, pushing away from the wall and strolling slightly closer to his inhuman guest. "If I or my crew were to die, what exactly would stop my magician from reviving us?"

A strange expression passes over perfect features as the Divine shifts slightly. If Law has to hazard a guess, he would say that the Divine seems almost... sheepish. "The little one... Kyra was not meant to have such a power. My eventual savior was to be stronger than those around them, yes, but not to such an extent. I underestimated the powers I bestowed upon her. Humans are not meant to control death the way that she does. It is my intention to remove that ability from her."

Something equal parts cold and burning makes itself known in Law's chest area. A quiver appears in his dominant hand, the fingers once more twitching for the scalpel so recently hidden in his pocket.

"How magnanimous of you," Law breathes, his fury so great he can barely speak. "Strip her of something that has been a natural part of her since childhood. Remove her ability to bring the people she cares about back to life. I'm sure she'll thank you for that someday."

"It would at least allow her a bit of the... normalcy you humans seem to crave."

The Dark Doctor is fairly quivering with rage at this point. Normalcy? This thing wants to give Kyra a taste of normalcy at the cost of the one gift Law knows Kyra cherishes?

It has used him. It has used him since last night, when it so promptly and readily agreed to his plans for Kyra's relocation. It never had any intention of helping Law; everything it has done has been for its own fucking benefit. Kyra is gone. The soul bond is blocked. He has no way to contact her or she him.

And she will think it is because of Law, because the Divine has played the Surgeon of Death as perfectly as a musician with a favorite instrument.

"You son of a bitch," he hisses, absolutely incensed. "You have taken Kyra away from me, removed her from the one place on any sea where she feels safe. You have placed her with a group of imbeciles who will without a doubt head straight to Teach's current location for the chance to annihilate him, therefore putting her in danger against my wishes. I should have known that your ready acquiescence was not due to your willingness to help me; my magician did warn me about making deals with you. You wanted Kyra to know that it was my idea to send her away, didn't you?"

"It would have been unkind not to tell her."

"Bullshit." Curses are falling from Law's lips like rain from a storm cloud, a sure sign that he has ascended to a level somewhere beyond rage. "You wanted her to hear that little conversation this morning so that she will think I have rid myself of her. You know that with the soul bond severed, I have no way of telling her what is truly occurring."

That perfect face is tilted at an angle as the Divine cocks its head to one side, studying Law quietly for a long moment before replying. "It is as you say. I wished for the little one to believe that you have cast her out."

Sharp pain lances through Law's fist. He realizes vaguely that he has driven his knuckles through one of the glass-fronted cabinets, shattering the surface and slicing his skin to ribbons without even knowing what he was doing. The rage is clouding his thoughts, pushing him to act on his instincts but not yet to make a fatal mistake. He is unbelievably angry, therefore he lashed out - but not at the creature standing in his infirmary, who could kill him as easily as blink at him.

"Why?" His voice is whisper-soft. How many men have gone to their deaths immediately after hearing that tone? How many more will fall with it in their ears as he tears the world apart in search of his magician?

"Because the time will come when little Kyra will have a choice to make. Freedom from the soul bond will be beneficial to her then. Tied to nothing and no one, she will have a clearer head with which to decide."

What choice? Does the Divine believe that some time away from Law will lead the Demon Witch to abandoning him permanently? Does it hope that their separation under such circumstances and with Kyra largely in the dark about the surgeon's motivations will undo the work of two years and lead to her hatred of Law?

The Dark Doctor instantly dismisses such questions. Kyra is free to hate him as much as she likes - but she will do so at his side once Teach is dead and the threat of Merrick is neutralized. He will kill anyone who attempts to come between them, anyone she tries to hide behind. Kyra is _**his.**_ She is marked with _his_ Jolly Roger. Her heart will be back in _his_ possession. It doesn't matter if she loves him or wants to rip him to pieces with her teeth. He doesn't even care if she deludes herself into believing that his confession just before she disappeared is bullshit.

_Liar._

The whispered word in the back of his mind is summarily ignored.

"Get out," Law commands calmly, his insatiable rage once more tightly restrained. He moves over to a different section of counters and pulls out a drawer, rummaging with his non-bloodied hand until he locates a pair of tweezers. There are countless shards of glass lodged in his knuckles; they must be removed, the wound cleaned and stitched and bandaged as soon as possible so that there is no risk of infection.

The Divine does not so much as twitch. Law considers possible ways to cause excruciating agony to the hated creature as he carefully picks slivers of glass from his torn skin.

"You will do well to rid yourself of the traitor, human, if you are to be of any help to my little one. Do so in a timely manner, or I shall settle the matter myself."

The tweezers pause momentarily. "What traitor?"

A rumbling laugh like a roll of thunder echoes through the infirmary. A glance towards his guest shows Law an expression of indulgent amusement. "You think yourself clever, mortal, and yet you are as much a fool as the rest of your kind. A human's dull senses lead to betrayal and pain more often than not. You think yourself the commander of this bright sea-beast and all that reside within it, yet there is one who works against you in close proximity at this very moment. How do you think the half-breed found you so easily? Did you not wonder how the book that informed little Kyra of my existence happened to be on a vessel which attacked you?"

Law stares at it, his mind bouncing in several directions at once. He remembers the first weeks in the New World, when it seemed he and his crew couldn't go five leagues in any direction without being drawn into a fight with the Navy. That trend stopped almost immediately after Kyra's defection, only to pick up again instantly after she returned. Law has often brooded over how exactly the damn Marines always seem to happen upon them. And Merrick - how in Roger's name had the bastard found them yesterday? Law had not had so much as an inkling that a Navy vessel was close until Gable's warning at -

Wait.

Gable had not warned Law of a Navy vessel.

Gable had said that an enemy pirate ship was on the approach.

Abandoning the first aid on his knuckles and dismissing his guest without another thought, the seething surgeon exits the infirmary and beats a path to the control room. His men, when he happens to pass them on his way, take one look at his face and hastily back off. Bepo falls into step somewhere in between the medbay and the galley, his fur standing on end due to the infuriated danger rolling off of Law in waves.

The control room is empty, save for Neil leaning over some papers in one corner, muttering into an unfamiliar Den-Den Mushi. He glances up as Law enters the chamber, jumping to his feet and hastily stuffing the sheets into a pocket on his boiler suit along with the snail.

"Where is Gable?" Law demands quietly, his voice kept steady by nothing more than sheer will.

"Went to get some sleep for a few hours, Captain, it's real late," Neil replies immediately, bringing the Dark Doctor's attention to the blackness outside the observation windows.

Bepo lets out a very quiet growl behind him; the surgeon glances back at the bear questioningly.

"He's lying, Captain. I can smell it. And he smells scared."

Law says nothing as he turns all of his attention back to Neil, the cold fury in his eyes speaking volumes. His cook flinches back, trapped as he is in this room with a furious captain and a homicidal polar bear blocking the only exit.

"Today is not a good day to be trying my patience, Neil." Law's voice is very quiet, so low that even in the absolute silence of the room it is a strain to pick it up. "You will tell me where my navigator is. You will explain why you are here and he is not, what those papers are in your pocket, and where you acquired that Den-Den Mushi. If you lie to me again, the consequences will be far from pleasant."

No sound but for the drip, drip, drip of the blood from Law's shredded knuckles as it hits the steel floor and the steady, continuous growl issuing from deep in Bepo's chest. The color has leached from Neil's face. He is sweating in the cool air of the control room. The Surgeon of Death regards him calmly from under the brim of his cap for the count of ten slow heartbeats before cocking his head to one side.

"Bepo."

The bear is instantly at his side, teeth barred in a ferocious snarl.

"Break his legs."

In barely a second Bepo has crossed the room and knocked the cook off his feet, bringing one massive paw down hard on a flailing leg with a high-pitched yell. The snap of the bone is audible throughout the chamber, followed closely by Neil's agonized scream. A second snap and a louder wail, and the first mate once again crosses to stand beside his captain, waiting for further orders. Law gestures for him to stay as he slowly approaches the crippled figure on the floor, who is screaming and sobbing in obvious pain, his legs both shattered high in the thigh.

Law crouches, stuffs a hand in Neil's pocket to riffle around and draws out the desired papers along with the Den-Den Mushi. The papers are maps, covered with Gable's messy scrawl in record of the paths traveled by the Heart Pirates since entering the New World. The snail phone is awake, gazing at Law with a disturbingly familiar bland smile.

"Who is this?" the surgeon demands softly, already knowing in his gut who will answer. The snail's smile widens a slight fraction.

"Hello again, Trafalgar Law," Rear Admiral Rafe Merrick's voice replies, sending an involuntary chill down the Dark Doctor's spine. "My, you do have quite the temper, don't you?"

* * *

><p>She can't sleep.<p>

The sun has long since disappeared over the horizon, leaving only the moon and stars to light up the night. The ships of Whitebeard's old fleet are dark and quiet, much like the Thousand Sunny on the deck of which Kyra currently lies sprawled out. She can hear manly snores coming from somewhere close by; the other residents of this vessel are partaking in the land of dreams as she so dearly wishes to do.

Law will not meet her there. Kyra knows in her bones that the Divine has severed their dream-bond for whatever nefarious purposes. Law is lost to her until such time as they meet again here, in the physical world. Even still, Kyra desperately wants to sleep, to release her hold on consciousness and have the freedom of oblivion if only for a few short hours. Her body is tired enough that such a wish shouldn't be so outlandish. She did just spend the better half of an afternoon and all of an evening kicking ass and having her own rear used to polished the deck. The sorceress had kind of been counting on the extreme exercise to wear her down so that when she finally collapsed, it would be into a dreamless sleep.

No such luck. Figures.

The problem lies with the fact that at no point in almost two years has Kyra slept anywhere but wrapped in Law's embrace. The man is a poster child for cuddle-sluts, however much he would deny such an accusation. If Law went to bed, he expected Kyra to accompany him, no matter what time it was or what other various tasks she might have been performing. He was not above tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her protesting form to their room. Trafalgar Law was a stubborn jackass who always must get his way, no matter what.

Is. _Is_ a stubborn jackass. The man is not dead, there is no need to think of him in the past tense. Kyra will see him again soon. If she has to kill every life form in the New World, if she has to wall the Divine back up in its cage, she's going to see her captain again.

And she's going to punch him right in the face.

A door opens off in the direction of all the snoring. Kyra does not move as bare feet pad heavily towards her. It's probably just that asshole of a swordsman, crossing the deck to ascend the mast to the crow's nest and his impossibly heavy weights. She wishes she could have fought him earlier - shown him just how pointless his little warning had really been. But the man had spent the whole of the time during which Kyra fought various members of the Whitebeard crew sound asleep off out of the way, snoring like Bepo with a head cold.

The head that pops into view over her face is not that of the swordsman.

"How come you're not asleep?"

Kyra has had little to no interaction with Straw Hat Luffy today. She fought his brother, threw his cook into the sea, and probably irritated his swordsman. But the captain has not approached her since introductions this morning. He was not present during the sparring - or if he was, he has become much more apt in the past twenty-four months at concealing his presence. Now he is crouching over her, his face uncomfortably close, his usual enormous grin absent.

"Can't," she replies. "Would you get out of my face now?"

Luffy pulls back. Kyra pushes herself into a sitting position, scooting around so that she faces the rubber pirate where he sits cross-legged on the deck. His famous hat is perched firmly on his head of wild black hair, the full moon throwing shadows across his face. His expression is uncharacteristically serious.

"How come?"

Kyra eyes him in confusion. "How come what?"

"How come you can't sleep? Are you hungry? We can go raid the kitchen; if you're with me Sanji won't be so mad. I know I can't sleep without a full stomach. Is that why you're still awake?" He sounds rather hopeful, as if wanting her to say yes so that he will have an excuse to ransack the galley.

"That's not why."

Straw Hat visibly deflates in disappointment. "Oh."

They sit together in silence for several moments. Kyra is faintly surprised Luffy did not immediately get up and leave, off to stuff his mouth alone since she has no need to do so as well. The lack of a happy-go-lucky smile on the stretchable face is perturbing; what is wrong that one so naively innocent must look so serious?

"You miss him, don't you?"

The sudden question catches her off guard. "What?"

"You miss that guy who fixed me up that time. Your captain. You know, Tal - uh, Trafag - Trafal-guy. With the bear. You miss him, right?"

"Trafalgar," Kyra corrects in a low voice, pain flaring in her mostly-hollow chest at his name. "Trafalgar Law. The bear's name is Bepo. And yeah, I do miss him. I miss all of them. Didn't you miss your crew while you were separated?"

Luffy nods solemnly. "I don't really understand why you're here instead of with him. How come you can't go back? With that magic you use to fight and stuff? Hey, can you do magic tricks? Ooooh, I wanna see you pull a rabbit out of my hat!"

And the precious item is immediately thrust in her face, solemnity instantly forgotten at the possibility of an awesome trick.

"It's not that kind of magic, Luffy."

Instant deflation once again. "Oh."

The pathetically depressed expression directed at her reminds her very much of Aaron, whining for one more slice of dessert, pretty please? Sighing in defeat, the magician makes a circular motion with one hand before slowly pointing upwards. For a split second, nothing happens - and then Straw Hat Luffy is hovering three feet off the deck of his own ship, laughing hysterically. Kyra floats him around for a few minutes before gently setting him down again. The smile that has been missing is in full sight now, stretching literally from ear to ear as Luffy claps Kyra on the back hard enough to knock the breath out of her.

"That was way cooler than a rabbit! Can we do that again sometime? That was awesome!"

"Sure."

"Yay!" Luffy bounces in place for a handful of seconds before freezing, his smile dropping like a dead fly. "But how come you can't leave then? Is your magic broken? Hey, we can get Chopper to fix it! NO, WAIT! FRANKY! HE CAN FIX ANYTHING!"

Kyra is less than thrilled with either of these suggestions. "I don't need a doctor, I'm not sick. And how the hell do you expect your _shipwright_ to be able to do a damn thing to help me, anyway?"

"I dunno," Luffy mumbles distractedly, shrugging as though such concerns are unimportant.

"My magic's not broken, Straw Hat, not in a way that can be fixed. I'll just have to find Law the old-fashioned way. You don't mind if I stick with you until then, right?"

Luffy stares at her, his eyes weirdly starry as he grins again. "Will you make me fly again whenever I ask? And help me raid the kitchen in the middle of the night? And pull pranks with me and Chopper and Ussop and Ace? And join my crew?"

"Yes, yes, yes. And_ no_."

**"WHHHHHAAAAATTTTT? BUT **_**WHY?"**_

Holy shit, this kid has a pair of lungs. Kyra sticks a finger into her ear and wiggles it around in an attempt to stop the high-pitched ringing. "I'm a Heart Pirate, Straw Hat. That's not going to change. I'm just traveling with you until I can get back to my real captain."

Luffy assumes a pouting pose, arms and legs tightly crossed and his lower lip sticking out several inches. "Well, I guess that's okay. But you have to eat with me whenever I want! And the pranks have to be amazing!"

"Yeah, okay. We'll start tomorrow. Aren't you tired? Why aren't you in bed?"

The infamous pirate looks at her as though she has just asked an incredibly stupid question. "Because _you're_ awake. And unhappy. I can sense it. Haki's annoying like that."

Before she can question him about this 'Haki' stuff, Kyra finds herself picked up by the now-standing Luffy and tucked carelessly under his arm. Were anyone else to dare something so humiliating, the Demon Witch would gut them with a fingernail. Being as it is Luffy, and she's fairly certain that he is too stupid to realize how degrading it is to be carried around like a sack of potatoes, Kyra merely sighs in defeat.

"Where are we going, Straw Hat?"

"Bed!"

Hold the phone. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not sleeping with you."

"But you need to sleep! Everybody sleeps better with company, right?"

"Put me down, Luffy, or I'm going to hurt you."

"Nu-uh!"

Despite the half-hearted fight she puts up, Kyra finds herself tucked into Straw Hat's hammock with the stretchy pirate underneath her, his arms and legs wrapped several times around her as he tries to keep her still. Somehow, the other males in Luffy's barracks manage to sleep easily through the rather noisy argument.

A hard rubber chin raps Kyra sharply on top of the head. "Go to sleep! We're going to prank Nami tomorrow, and you can't think up a good prank if you're tired!"

"I swear to Roger, Straw Hat, if you hit me again I'm going to -"

_Whap._ Luffy's chin moves as he speaks even as it digs into Kyra's scalp. "Sleep! 'Night, Kyra!"

And in the next instant he is out cold, his snores loud enough to drown out all the others.

Kyra will tell herself later that she follows him into oblivion a moment later purely by coincidence.

Right. Coincidence.

* * *

><p>AN: So... don't kill me?

I moved over the summer into a place with no internet. I've been working on this chapter piecemeal for the last few weeks. We're supposed to be getting internet at the new place next week, so hopefully I'll have another chapter out in the very near future.

Please review.


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law lowers his scalpel to the twitching flesh laid out on his table and makes a deep incision in his former cook's chest, just over his right pectoral. The man screams in agony, obviously very much wishing for the withheld painkillers that sit tantalizingly over to the side on a rolling tray, in full view of the suffering patient.<p>

Law smiles, the expression lighting up his usually laid-back face into something deeply terrifying. The blood splattered across his cheeks only serves to deepen the horror.

"Are you ready to tell me when exactly you began working for our dear Rear-Admiral, Mr. Neil?"

Retching sobs are the only reply. Law's smile deepens, the glint of insanity shining brighter in his eyes.

"Very well then."

A tattooed hand - sans gloves, already coated in gore - slowly inserts itself into a deep cut on the patient's abdomen. Ignoring the renewed screams of pain, the Surgeon of Death gently takes hold of a coil of small intestines and carefully begins working it out of Neil's body. Blood suddenly gushes from a different wound; Law pauses with his hand halfway out of Neil's gut and frowns slightly.

"It would seem that your writhing around has disturbed the clamp on your artery, Mr. Neil. You do realize that without that clamp you would bleed out? We can't have that; you haven't answered my questions yet." Law shoves the section of intestines back into place before going to work on what's left of Neil's leg. The amputation had been a success; if the subject can refrain from flailing around so much, he should be able to live for another forty-eight hours or so before infection sets in. Once the internal clamp has been readjusted - and a few more slivers of glass have been lovingly inserted into the raw meat of what was once a fully functional hand - he goes back to his earlier exercise of pulling out Neil's small intestine.

The screams are a balm on Law's soul.

An undetermined amount of time later, when Law exits his infirmary coated nearly head to toe in Neil's blood, he immediately turns to the giant guarding the door.

"Where is Gable?"

Jambarl doesn't look at him, only keeps his eyes fixed ahead down the hallway. Law watches as the big man's throat works and wonders how often in the last twelve hours of guard duty his subordinate has been forced to swallow down bile.

"Bepo's got him in the control room, Captain," Jambarl eventually replies, voice remarkably steady despite the slight greenish tinge to his skin.

The Dark Doctor nods his thanks before walking away, gory scalpel in hand and dripping blood down the halls of his submarine. It is the first time he has emerged from his surgical theatre since dragging Neil there three days ago. He has not slept, eaten, or washed since that time, nor has he had any interaction with his crew. They have been around long enough to know that when Trafalgar Law is in this kind of mood, even the most innocent exchange with him can end with someone's blood sprayed over the walls like paint.

The control room is empty but for Gable, heavily bound to a chair in the center of the room, and Bepo. The bear is standing right behind the navigator, a deep growl rumbling out of his chest as an obvious warning against sudden movements.

"Good evening, Mr. Gable. I was wondering if you'd be willing to answer a few questions for me." Law's voice is light, almost cheerful in tone as he advances across the room.

"Captain, what - what's going on?" Gable sounds bewildered, his features twisting in confusion as he pulls lightly against his restraints. Bepo's growls kick up a notch until the bound man falls still once more. "Bepo won't tell me anything. What did I do wrong, Captain? Why are you angry with me?"

Law's head cocks to the side. He is unsure of Gable's involvement. Neil is guilty, of that there is no question, but Gable? Law has no solid proof that Gable is working in cahoots with Merrick. The Divine had specifically said 'traitor', which due to the words' singular nature denotes only one turncoat. Neil is the one who was caught red handed communicating with the Rear Admiral. Gable has so far escaped physical harm due to these facts, but Law still intends to question him. Bepo will use his nose to sniff out any falsehoods; Law will punish these lies with his blade.

He will ferret out any and all traitors aboard his ship, however long it may take.

"Will you answer my questions truthfully, Mr. Gable?" Law pulls up another chair and sits, slouching until he is comfortable and fixing his gaze on the tied-up navigator.

"Yes, of course, Captain," is the immediate reply given by the confused man. Behind him, Bepo ceases his growls and perks up slightly, nose working furiously.

"That's true, Captain."

"Excellent. On the afternoon during which we were engaged by the Navy, why did you tell me that they were simply enemy pirates?"

Gable blinks in confusion for a moment, obviously sorting through the events of that day in his mind. His answer, when it comes, is slowly verbalized as though to ensure complete honesty. "Because they were flying the skull and crossbones, Captain. There was red on the flag, too, like bloody tears from the skull's eye sockets."

"That's true," Bepo repeats, still looming over Gable's shoulder though the snarl is momentarily absent. "I saw that flag while we were fighting."

Law knows that Bepo would sooner swallow his own tongue than lie to him. If he says the flag was present, then it was there. Next question. "Why was Mr. Neil at your post three evenings past, Mr. Gable? If I remember correctly, you are the navigator of my ship. Why were you not fulfilling your role on my crew?"

The words come fast and sure this time. "I hadn't eaten that day, Captain. I thought it'd be best to stay at my post as long as I could since Ky - uh, well, since everybody was so on edge. Neil came in and told me he'd cooked up some grub, said it was set up over in the galley since you've always had that policy about not eating in here. I wasn't going to leave, Captain, I swear, but you've reprimanded me before about skipping meals and I didn't want to upset you even more than you already were!"

Law did not pass by the galley the night he apprehended Neil. A glance at Bepo earns a nod from the bear, signifying that Gable is indeed being honest.

"Has this happened before? Mr. Neil taking your place at the controls for any length of time?"

"Yes, Captain. Used to be I'd have to flag one of the guys down if I needed a break to eat, or use the head, or whatever. But a while back Neil started coming in here every day to relieve me long enough to take care of business. He said it was to get away from Ky- uh, I mean -"

"I have not forbidden you from speaking my magician's name, Mr. Gable," Law calmly interrupts, folding his blood soaked hands in his lap. "Continue."

"Right. Well, like I was saying, Neil said he was trying to get away from Kyra. Sometimes he'd stay after I came back, usually to bitch about her. He's hated her since day one, Captain, ever since she rejected him that first time. I figured it was just a case of sour grapes, y'know? Neil's always been like that. I just let him talk; figured it'd be better he say it to me than go off on Kyra."

The gears in Law's mind are whirling, processing this new information. "So this trend began right after Kyra joined us?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And at any time before have you seen Mr. Neil speaking into the Den-Den Mushi I found on his person? Were you aware that it is a direct connection to Rear Admiral Rafe Merrick?"

Here the color leaves Gable's face. He does not reply for a long moment.

The Dark Doctor smiles coldly, leaning forward slightly. "I expect an answer, Mr. Gable."

Bepo rumbles menacingly in the background.

"It... I thought... I didn't -" Gable is rambling, sweat beading on his forehead as he scrambles for a suitable answer. Law stands fluidly from his chair and approaches Gable, carelessly knocking the navigator's hat off and grabbing a hank of hair. Perhaps a little pain will loosen the man's tongue.

Law has just begun to cut the skin directly below his captive's ear when Gable exclaims, "I didn't know it was a connection to Merrick! Gable's had that snail for _years,_ Captain! He uses it to keep in touch with the Joker's crew! I thought that's what he was doing! Ask Sachi or Pengiun or any of the guys that were around when we formed! He's _always_ had that snail!"

"He's not lying, Captain," Bepo quietly confirms, furry features held carefully blank when Law glances up at him. A heartbeat passes before the scalpel is gently pulled back. A bandage appears from a bloody pocket, carefully slapped over the bleeding cut before the medical instrument is used to slice the ropes binding Gable to his seat. A tattooed hand on one shoulder keeps him from rising.

"Are you working for Rear-Admiral Rafe Merrick, Gable?" The formality is dropped, thought the grip on the shoulder is bruising.

"No, Captain. I don't take orders from anybody but you. I swear it."

Bepo shifts slightly. "Still not lying, Captain."

"Good. Thank you."

Law removes his hand from his navigator and allows the man to stand, shifting his attention to Bepo for the moment. "I want a round-the-clock guard on Mr. Neil. He's stabilized in the infirmary, where he is to remain for the time being. Tell the men I want everyone in the galley in ten minutes, no exceptions. I'm going to get a little... cleaned up."

He doesn't pause to watch his bear nod in acknowledgement of these orders. He simply turns and exits the room without another word.

Ten minutes later, the Supernova surgeon strides shirtless into the galley of his sub dressed in lounge pants with his hair damp. All murmuring amongst the men is instantly silenced. Law moves to his place at the head of the table, sits down and props his feet up. Out of habit, his eyes dart to the empty seat where his magician should sit. No one has dared to fill her place, a caution of which the captain approves.

He does not dawdle with a lead-up. He ploughs straight into the issue he wishes to address.

"For the better part of two years, Mr. Neil has been following the orders of someone other than myself. At some point after our initial meeting on Fishman Island, the Navy Rear-Admiral Rafe Merrick gained access to the second of a pair of Den-Den Mushi, the other half of which belongs to Mr. Neil. Your former crewmate has been using these snails to relay our location to the Navy, in an attempt to rid himself of my magician's presence aboard this vessel.

"Under the influence of my... persuasion, Mr. Neil has confessed to keeping the Marines abreast of our location for the aforementioned time. He had a deal with Mr. Merrick that was intended to spare the rest of us from persecution or capture once the Demon Witch Kyra was apprehended. He assures me that Mr. Merrick's promises several days ago to return my magician's heart at the death of Marshal D. Teach was genuine, but the offer to be made a Shichibukai is apparently false. It was to be given as a simple enticement, should the return of Kyra's heart not be sufficient to sway me. That is of little concern to me at the moment. Mr. Neil will pay for his transgressions against me with his life. He swore to follow my orders above all else; all of you have sworn to never abandon a crewmate. He has violated these oaths, and for that, _Neil is going to die_."

Law pauses for a moment to let the gravity of that pronouncement sink in. When he continues, his voice is deadly quiet.

"Mr. Neil was not forthcoming as to whether or not any of you were aiding him. If you are part of this... if you have been aiding Rafe Merrick at the cost of my magician's safety... if you have been working against me on my own submarine, now is the time to come forward. I will have no mercy for you should I discover your duplicity at a later date. If you have betrayed me and wish to continue living, tell me now."

Not a sound in the galley but for the faint rumble coming from Bepo. There is outrage on the faces of the Heart Pirates; outrage and confusion that one of their own could actually do something as terrible as betray their captain. Fists are clenched to white-knuckled intensity. Teeth grind as exclamations of fury are bitten back. Now is not the time to curse their former cook into the deepest circle of Hell. Now is not the time to swear vengeance against this traitor and the odious Merrick. Now is not the time for empty words and gestures.

Now is the time for confessions.

Not one word is spoken by a single man in the room.

Law looks each of his crew in the eyes, assessing their expressions, searching for a faltering gaze. He finds none. These men are loyal to him and to him alone. They will kill or die at his word. The notion of betrayal disgusts them. Whether or not they are fond of Kyra, whether or not they fear or dislike her, she is a part of Law's crew, under Law's protection until otherwise stated. Not a man amongst them would lift a finger to harm her by word or deed.

They are Law's men to the soul.

The Surgeon of Death smiles at his crew, a rare smile of genuine feeling rather than an expression of sarcasm or the mask behind which he always hides his thoughts. It is in thanks for their loyalty; it is an expression of gratitude. It is the reason these men will follow him to Hell and back if he but says the word. They sit in silence for some time, soaking in the meaning of this moment, preparing themselves for what will doubtlessly come next. There is not a doubt in any of their minds what Law's next course of action will be, so it is no surprise when Sachi speaks up.

"When are we going after Kyra, Captain? If that fucking turncoat's out of commission, we're going to need our pretty chef back."

Law's smile morphs into something feral.

"Not yet, Sachi. I have a few loose ends to tie up first. Gable, keep following the Log Pose for the nearest island. If Mr. Neil's screams are to be believed, it will bring us one step closer to the Yonkou Blackbeard. I think his head would make a lovely 'welcome back' present for my magician, wouldn't you agree? Bepo, I want you in the hold with me. There are some gifts for the Marines in the cold locker that I require your help with."

Guffaws from the crew; they know about the locker, know what Law and Kyra have been filling it with the last couple of years. Talk breaks out amongst them as Law leaves with his first mate. They plot the demise of Merrick between them with a bloodthirstiness worthy of the Heart Pirates. It is merely talk - everyone on this ship knows that none may end the Rear-Admiral but for the captain or his witch. All the same, this verbal proof of their loyalty pleases Law immensely.

There is no talk between man and bear as the pair of them descend to the hold. There are no words exchanged as Law works his way through the series of locks Haru had installed when the cold locker was initially added to the belly of the sub. Bepo steps in after his captain, silent as the grave while Law walks down one of many aisles, his hand trailing over icy containers.

Hearts.

Scores of them.

Near on two years ago, after returning from her captivity at the hands of the dead shaman and Merrick, Kyra put her hand through a Marine's chest and punched his heart out through his back. Law had been the one to pick the fallen man's organ up off the deck of the routed Navy ship, awed and amused at the method of his death. Kyra had taken one look at the doctor's face and bolted into the fracas, keeping well away from him for as long as she could and unknowingly aiding him in controlling his urge to strip her and take her right there in front of everyone.

He had her that night instead, made her scream in the privacy of their room. Much more satisfying.

For most every fight after that, as long as it was an altercation with the Marines rather than their fellow scallywags, Kyra punched out hearts and Law collected them for storage. Not all of the organs were salvageable - if that were the case, Law would have long ago run out of room for them. Many were the times that Kyra would kill by a different method, simply decapitating her foes or spreading their guts to the four winds. Sometimes she would crush the hearts, grinning impishly at Law all the while. However, thanks partly to Neil's betrayal and partly to their own popularity, the Heart Pirates have had no shortage of Navy dogs tailing their every step. This room is filled floor to ceiling with the proof of the pirate crews' superiority.

Law thinks now would be the perfect time to return these organs to the Marines.

"Box them up. We're sending them to Navy HQ."

He's changed his mind about the Shichibukai thing, after all.

* * *

><p>Kyra clings to the yard of Straw Hat Luffy's ship with both legs, cold fingers working to tie up the sail as the Thousand Sunny tosses to and fro in the maelstrom.<p>

"Hurry up, witch, before the mast gets torn off!"

Kyra decides that cursing Zoro to within an inch of his life will have to wait a few minutes and continues with her work. In short order the sail is secured, and the Demon Witch uses her powers to teleport back to the deck rather than climb down the slick wood of the mast. Zoro grabs her arm as soon as she appears and takes off for the galley, dragging her along with him. The swordsman is strangely unafraid to manhandle her, yanking her around whenever he wants her to do something or go somewhere. If not for her ability to heal, Kyra suspects she would sport bruises in the shape of Zoro's hand after only a week in his company.

The rest of the Straw Hat Pirates, plus Fire Fist Ace, are waiting for them in the galley. Sanji is over by the stoves, the smells of exotic dishes already wafting through the room. Everyone else is seated around the table listening to the orange-haired navigator talk.

"...keep going east by northeast for the next few hours. It'll keep us on our course and at the fringes of the worst weather. We'll just have to hang tight; it's going to be nasty out there for a while," the woman explains nonchalantly, filing her already perfect nails as she speaks. She sounds just as sure of herself as Gable would when explaining a sudden directional change to Law, as if her decision to sail on the edges of a hurricane makes absolute sense. If the looks on the rest of the crew's faces are enough to go by, her word will be heeded just as Gable's would be. She is an excellent navigator, truly first class.

Now if only she weren't such a greedy little bitch...

"You hear all that, Marco?" Ace asks into a small, sleepy-eyed Den-Den Mushi. Phoenix Marco's voice answers from the snail's mouth in the affirmative, verifying their heading and assuring that the Whitebeard fleet will be fine. The Den-Den is then put away as Sanji begins moving dishes piled high with food to the dining table, his flowery greetings to the women of his crew drowned out by Straw Hat Luffy's shout of joy.

"FOOD! _FOOD! **FOOOOOOOOOD!"**_

And the boy proceeds to help himself, rubber arms stretching to platters on every corner of the table as he stuffs his mouth to overflowing. Down the way, his brother yells his thanks to the cook before likewise tucking in, and another meal breaks out on the Thousand Sunny amidst shouts and laughter and the occasional flying chicken leg.

Kyra sorely misses the relative order of a meal on the Heart Pirates' submarine. Her captain might be a sick, twisted, sadistic bastard with a seriously disturbing mind and a fetish for her blood, but at least his table manners are beyond reproach. Neil would never have been stupid enough to try to plant a kiss on her, the way Sanji always does no matter how hard he is thrown back in warning. None of her guys would have come to the table in a speedo, gotten up partway through the meal, and done a provocative dance for the entertainment of the crew as the cyborg shipwright does today. Nor would any of them have shouted for an encore while Kyra tried hard not to lose what food she had eaten. While with her crew, she does not have to worry about the cook saying something insulting to one of the fighters, or a swordsman taking extreme offense and pulling out his sword to retaliate with brute force. Had something like that actually happened with the Heart Pirates, Law would have but to speak the offenders names in a calm voice for all such actions to immediately grind to a halt. Luffy just laughs uproariously and stuffs more food into his gaping mullet.

These people are fucking crazy.

Kyra eats as quickly as she can and gets out of there, retreating to the women's quarters for some peace and quiet. She would rather go outside, but does not wish to expend the magic to keep from blowing away in the winds she can feel battering against this small ship. Hopefully by tomorrow they will be out of reach of this storm and Kyra will be allowed to return to her preferred position sitting on the roof of the crow's nest. At least there nobody bothers her except for Straw Hat. That boy has no understanding of the concept of 'alone'.

Speaking of unwanted guests, the sorceress has just pulled Law's hoodie from the depths of her satchel and buried her nose in the fabric when the door swings open and Nico Robin strolls in, looking as beautiful and unflappable as ever.

"Hello, Miss Kyra. Did you enjoy the meal?"

The food was exceptional, so Kyra nods in the affirmative as she tries to discretely stuff Law's hoodie back into her bag. Robin's blue kind blue eyes instantly dart to Kyra's hands, halting them with a polite smile. Shit.

"My apologies. I had forgotten that with this weather you would have to perform your evening ritual in here rather than on top of the crow's nest. I will step out and come back later, all right?"

What?

"What evening ritual?" Kyra blurts out before Robin can even turn for the door. The older woman gives her another of those empty, polite smiles before stepping over to her bed and fluidly folding herself to sit on the mattress. She crosses her legs demurely at the ankle, strangely ladylike for a pirate traveling with a band as rowdy as the Straw Hats are reputed to be.

"Each night since your first on our ship, you have disappeared to the roof of the crow's nest for exactly one hour. You take the hoodie in your hands and a small golden locket with you. Sometimes you simply sit and hold them while watching the sun go down. Twice you have sat with the hood pressed to your face. It belongs to your captain, does it not? Trafalgar Law?"

Kyra flounders for a moment, trying to decide whether to answer the question or smother herself before she dies of embarrassment. Finally she manages to give another nod.

Robin senses her obvious mortification and the smile on her face takes on a more gentle cast. "There is no shame in missing your crew, Miss Kyra. We all know what it is like to be separated from those we love. None of us would judge you for your reaction to such a situation. That is why no one bothers you when you retreat to the crow's nest. We understand."

"Guess Straw Hat didn't get the memo," Kyra mutters, still trying to bring the color down in her flaming cheeks. Robin's smile vanishes in a blink, leaving a very serious expression in its wake.

"Luffy is trying to help you in the only way he knows. You are his hero. You returned his brother to him from beyond the grave. Ace's wellbeing means everything to Luffy, and you saved him where the captain could not."

Here Kyra opens her mouth to argue: Straw Hat did save his brother! The flaming progeny of Gol D. Roger would have been killed much earlier than he actually was if not for Straw Hat's stubborn love and persistence. Robin speaks again before Kyra can insist upon any of this.

"Luffy does not resent you for interfering. I know, and the others know, that he saved Ace from execution only to have him die right afterwards. That is to be expected. Family will always put the wellbeing of their loved ones before themselves.

"But you were the stranger who saved Ace from something even Luffy could not overcome. You snatched my captain's brother from the arms of Death. Ace's continued life is due to _you,_ Miss Kyra. Can you understand what that means to Luffy? How important that makes you in his eyes?"

Kyra cannot, and so offers no reply. Robin does not seem to require one, as she only pauses for a moment before going on.

"He will do anything to help you. If it does not put his brother in fatal danger, if it does not unduly endanger the lives of his crew, our captain will sail to the ends of the world if that is what you require. He considers you a friend, and take it from someone who knows, Miss Kyra: Luffy will die before giving up or letting down a friend in need."

The only survivor of the Ohara tragedy gives the witch a long moment to process all of this.

"He knows why you hide on top of the crow's nest. He knows that you are hurting. His refusal to leave you to your pain is a refusal to let you suffer alone. He expects nothing from you in return. You were there when he needed someone, Miss Kyra. This is Luffy being there for you."

There is wetness on Kyra's cheeks. Her bare feet are cold on the wooden floor of this ship that is not her home. A woman who is not of her crew is sitting across from her, speaking of a captain that is not Kyra's who cares in a way so much different than that which the sorceress is accustomed to. The pressure in her chest, the agony that has been tucked away since her conversation with Phoenix Marco that first day, suddenly expands until she feels like she will burst with it. Kyra doesn't understand, can't understand. Why? Why does Straw Hat give a shit about her? So she brought his brother back to life. She's done that for hundreds of people, and the only ones who ever thanked her are men from her crew. She is no one to Monkey D. Luffy. Why is he... why does he...

Kyra flinches away when a gentle hand wipes carefully at the tears on her face, Robin's a smooth hand following her backwards retreat to tenderly cup her cheek.

"It is alright to cry, Miss Kyra," Robin whispers into her hair. At some point in the last few moments, the older woman has sat beside her on the pallet and pulled her into her lap. One arm is wrapped gently around her waist while the other hand strokes soothingly up and down Kyra's back. Law's hoodie is clutched to the distraught girl's chest, her knuckles white and aching with the force of her grip.

From the door comes a loud knocking, followed by Straw Hat's shouted questions. Kyra cannot make out the words. Something inside has cracked, and from the fissure there is a flood of agony that is fighting to get out of her. She can hear a strange sound, a low animal keening noise, and wonders fleetingly where such a mournful wail is coming from.

The door bursts open to reveal Luffy with food decorating his shirtfront and a wide grin stretching his mouth to impossible proportions. The grin falls off his face faster than Bepo could down a fresh fish.

"Kyra? Robin?"

"It's alright, Luffy. Miss Kyra is just having a moment," Robin explains pleasantly, arm not loosening around Kyra's middle. "Was there something you needed?"

Kyra watches through a haze as Luffy mutely shakes his head, silent in a way so rare for him. He takes a step back, stops, slowly steps forward again. Robin seems to understand his hesitation; Kyra feels the stroking hand leave her skin as the Ohara native beckons the boy over. Very hesitantly, Straw Hat comes to sit at Kyra's free side, his hat now in his hands and his fingers fiddling with the brim.

"What's wrong with Kyra?"

The mage in question believes the boy to be speaking to his archeologist until Robin nudges her slightly in the ribs. Right; the rubber wonder has the peculiar habit of speaking in the third person. She shakes her head, extracting herself from Robin's gentle grip and striding out the door as soon as she gains her feet. She hears the patter of sandals, knows that Luffy is following, but does not stop her gait into the storm outside.

She doesn't pause until she's almost to the mast, wanting desperately to retreat up to the crow's nest but leery of such positioning in the middle of a gale like this. Her fingers tighten around Law's hoodie, encased as it is in her powers to protect the fabric and the scent it carries from the elements. It's all she has left of her captain. She can't lose it; she won't. The rain pounds down on her, on the ship, sliding off the deck in sheets as Luffy puts a friendly hand on her elbow before shouting into her ear.

"I was going to tell you that Sanji found the fake bugs in the pantry! He went crazy! You should have stayed longer, the look on his face was funny! I was thinking we could prank Chopper next - can you help me sneak into his medicine room? I wanna steal all his needles." Luffy seems completely unconcerned with the soaking he's getting, standing here in the rain with her and planning his next bit of mischief like he hasn't a care in the world. How does he do that? Shove all his worries and responsibilities aside for a spot of fun?

"Maybe tomorrow," Kyra mutters, unable to muster the false enthusiasm behind which she has hidden these last seven days. "I'm not a fan of needles. Maybe we could just -"

"HOLY CRAP THAT IS SO COOL! LOOK, KYRA, LOOK!" Luffy interrupts her midsentence as is his way pointing excitedly over to the side. Kyra looks, looks again, and has to suppress a groan. The 'cool' thing of which the boy spoke happens to be some kind of tentacled Sea King that is currently attacking one of the ships under Marco's command. It seems like every other swab on those decks is a Devil Fruit user; a fight in these conditions is bound to end up with someone going overboard.

"I'll be right back," she says as her powers rise up to encase her, sending Law's hoodie back to her satchel and herself to the beleaguered ship. She ignores Luffy's indignant shouting - "COME BACK, KYRA! I WANT TO FIGHT, TOO! NO FAIR!" his voice audible even from such a distance over the sound of the storm - and the exclamations of the pirates into whose midst she is deposited. Maybe a fight will get her out of this funk the weather's put her in.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE!" she screams over the roar of the monster and wind. Pirates scatter left and right as she advances across this deck, towards the tentacles swinging dangerously close overhead. The monster seems to sense its' prey's withdrawal; the roars diminish slightly, giant maw closing as it turns its eyes in search of new quarry. Those glaring orbs land on Kyra almost instantly, stranded as she is in no-man's-land. The monsters regard each other for a long moment - and then the Sea King starts to laugh.

It is laughing at her.

"GIGGLE AT THIS, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Kyra bellows, darting over to the nearest tentacle and and slapping her palm flat on the leathery flesh.

The appendage explodes in a shower of innards and blood.

Laughter becomes pained bellows. Another five tentacles lash out at anything available, swinging at the pirates on the ships and pummeling the frothing surface of the sea. Shouts are heard just before a blur of blue and gold flies directly into the monster's face. Shredded bits of flesh the size of dinner plates fall around Kyra like snow as the Sea King shrieks its displeasure and swats the offending phoenix away. The flaming bird tumbles beak over tail through the air, wings flapping against the wind and rain as it attempts to right itself - until it suddenly disappears into a rouge wave thirty feet high, gaining by the second and barreling straight towards the ship on which Kyra currently stands.

This just keeps getting better and better.

A black wall of magic stops the wave's current advance as the Sea King gives yet another mighty roar and uses its remaining tentacles to rock the ship dangerously to the side. A cutting motion with one hand is sufficent to sever the creature's head from its body. The corpse's hold on the ship has barely loosened before Kyra's powers take her into the heart of the tsunami, to the general astonishment of the Whitebeards and Straw Hats alike.

The flaming bird is nowhere to be seen. Instead Kyra grabs the wrist of an unconscious man with a weirdly receding hairline, doing a quick scan with her powers and jumping to several other dumped Devil Fruit users before returning to the battered ship and depositing them all in a heap. They have barely landed before she is pumping magic into her cargo, repairing damage to waterlogged lungs and kickstarting sleeping brains. The men come to with simultaneous jolts as Kyra flops back on the deck and tries to catch her breath, strangely exhausted all of a sudden. She's done much more strenuous activities with less of a backlash; were she not so tired at the moment, she would be concerned at the amount of energy such easy tasks as killing monsters and saving lives have cost her. Instead the Demon Witch simply closes her eyes and concentrates on getting her respiratory system back under control.

"Not bad for a girl, yoi."

One tired blue eye opens enough to glare balefully at Phoenix Marco, who is sitting next to her sprawled figure looking none the worse for his brief sojourn under the sea. The other men she pulled out of the water are being hustled off by their crewmates, while still more fellows run around hastily repairing the damage caused by the slaughtered Sea King.

"You're welcome, birdie," Kyra mutters. She is unsure if Marco can even hear her over the storm pounding at them. Mother Nature is throwing quite the tantrum today. "Now fuck off."

A hand darts out and ruffles her soaked bangs, withdrawing quickly when she snaps her teeth at it. Marco rises from the deck and gives her a lazy smirk before wandering away to help his comrades fix their ship.

Ungrateful bastard.

Kyra tiredly musters the energy to dump herself back in front of Straw Hat Luffy, who wastes no time in scooping her up like a bride and racing inside faster than a normal person should be able to move. Oh, wait: it's Straw Hat Luffy. Normal is not a word that has any business being used around him.

"OH MY GOSH THAT WAS SO AWESOME KYRA YOU'RE FREAKING AMAZING THE WAY YOU JUST BAM AND HE WAS ALL RAWR AND-"

Quiet is another word that has no business being applied to Straw Hat Luffy.

Law is much quieter.

Law can get his point across without a single word.

Law would simply give her that smirk of his, or brush his fingers over the tattoo on the side of her neck. Law's arm are so familiar to her that being held in them the way Straw Hat is now her usually leaves her feeling drowsy and content.

_This one is better for you, little Kyra. He will keep you safe._

Law would have noticed immediately if Kyra had gone rigid in his arms. Luffy doesn't, he merely bangs into the now-empty women's quarters, dumps her on her sleeping pallet, and blows out again talking about Chopper and colds and dessert. Kyra immediately blocks the door behind him before hunching over her knees and gripping handfuls of her hair.

"You son of a bitch."

_Why do you curse me, little one? I have merely done as your lover requested._

"He doesn't understand! You _know_ how fucking powerful I am better than anyone else, you _made me like this_! You should have said no!"

_I merely acted in your best interests, little one._

"Taking me away from Law? From my crew? My fucking family? Bullshit!" She realizes that she is shouting at thin air, that should any of the people aboard the Thousand Sunny hear her they will likely think her crazy. She doesn't care. "Take me back! I want to go home!"

The Divine sounds perversely hopeful at this. _You will return to me? You will return to my domain and leave all else behind so that I might treasure you?_

"That's not my fucking home!" she yells, furious at it for twisting her words. "I want to go back to Law! That sub is more home to me than your fucking island ever was!"

The exhausted mage plops back on her bed, uncaring of her wet clothes soaking the sheets. The left-over adrenaline from the fight is gone, leaving her bone weary. She wants badly to cuddle up with Law and go to sleep, be alone with him in their shared dreams. "You won't even give me that, will you, bastard? You've blocked the soul bond so I can't even dream with him anymore. I should have left you in that hole."

_You were always meant to free me, little Kyra. That is why the books were sent to you and not another. That is why you were given into the care of the half-breed. Fate has branded you as mine, child. Mine to protect and mine to cosset. I would make you a queen amongst insects. This trash you have bonded with is not worthy of you. I have severed that link. You may join yourself with anyone you wish now, little one. You are free._

Everything stops. Kyra's eyes slowly fall closed against the tears that threaten to blind her. Fate. Oh, how it hates her.

"You piece of shit," she whispers, exhausted to her soul. "You broke the soul bond? It's gone?"

_It is._

So that's it, then. The Divine has completely severed her connection to Trafalgar Law. Whether it did so for the stated reasons - it cares about her, wants her safe and happy and does not believe Law capable of making her so - or for some hidden purpose is unclear. It doesn't really matter. The end result is still the same. They are parted by more than miles and water and land. They are separated at the one level Kyra believed safe from destruction.

Law is lost to her until she finds him again and somehow reestablishes the soul bond.

He might not want it. He did send her away, after all, even if he did say it was for her protection. If Kyra knows Law, the stupid man is probably headed straight to Blackbeard right now to kill him so he can reacquire Kyra's heart without her interference. Well, screw what he wants for a change. Two years ago he trapped Kyra into joining his crew. The soul bond had been something Kyra was strongly opposed to at first while Law enjoyed the hell out of it.

For once, Kyra's going to get what she wants, dammit!

"Fuck you."

Kyra ignores whatever else the Divine might be saying and leaves the women's quarters. Her rage has rejuvenated her, the exhaustion from moments ago long gone. She feels like she could fly to the stars on the power of her anger alone. She needs to beat on something before she explodes. She runs into the swordsman on her way to the galley as he ambles through the downpour for the crow's nest. This seems like an excellent place to start, so she reaches out and puts a hand on Zoro's arm.

"What, witch? I'm going to train; hurry up and say whatever so I can go."

"Will you fight me? I could use a good spar."

She has to fight not to grin at the astonished expression on his face.

This is going to be a lot of fun.

* * *

><p>AN: Please Reveiw.


	33. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

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><p>Trafalgar Law is dreaming.<p>

He knows this, though if asked to explain his knowledge he would be unable to do so. The state of his being unconscious is simply a fact like any other: Bepo's fur is incredibly soft, his magician is gone from him, and he is dreaming.

Facts.

The last thing he remembers is flopping onto the bed on his submarine late of an evening, having just finished consulting with Gable over their next course. Blackbeard is leading them a merry chase across the New World, each island more dangerous than the last. Law and the Heart Pirates have just spent a week on one such locale, inhabited by carnivorous plants and several villages of Haki-wielding cannibals bent on a feast of pirate meat. Two of Law's men are dead, a handful grievously injured. He and the other survivors of his crew had left the island the moment the Log Pose finally set. This is the first he has slept in four long and stressful days. His body aches, the morale of the men is at an all-time low, they are short on medical supplies, and it will be at least another few weeks before he finds out whether his bloody present to the Marine HQ has earned him the desired position of Shichibukai.

He has not seen, touched, or tasted his magician in almost a month.

Right at this moment, Law would very much like to say that he has slipped into such a deep sleep that even dreams cannot reach him. He has no use for fantasy while sleeping now that Kyra is lost to him. But, as seems to be the norm lately, Law is doomed not to get what he desires. He remembers hearing Kyra curse at unknown gods once; maybe he should try that.

The dream offers nothing familiar. He seems to be standing in a ramshackle cottage with a hard-packed dirt floor, one room with all the trappings of a home crammed into the small space. The fire pit in the center of the room is empty but for cold ashes. A long swath of fabric that appears to act as a door is fluttering softly in a warm breeze. The area is very clean, if slightly disorganized. There is a lump under the blankets on one of the pallets; the sound of steady breathing tells Law that the person is asleep.

The room smells faintly of blood.

The Surgeon of Death edges over to the area of this room set aside for rest, his cold eyes on the sleeping lump. It is small - probably a child. The bedding next to its little pallet is much longer, doubtlessly for a parent, though at the moment it is neatly made up and lacking an occupant. There are only two sleeping cots, which would indicate that one of the parents is either dead or otherwise gone for whatever mundane reason. Law crouches down next to the slumbering child and ponders this strange dream. The cottage is not familiar to him. Aside from the child, there is no one else present. In the time since his bond with Kyra was severed, Law has not been so cognizant on the rare occasions he slips deeply enough into unconsciousness to dream. He is unsure why this time is any different. What is so special about this dream?

The lump of blankets gives a sudden snort before an unruly head of black curls shoots out of it with a yelp. Law stays where he is; it's his dream, after all, surely nothing in here can hurt him. That would simply wake him. Tiny hands grasp the ebony locks and yank viciously, a high-pitched young voice rambling on in a strange language for a moment before the child stiffens and whirls to face him. Narrow grey eyes lock with wide emerald, and Law feels shock course through his system just as surely as if he had put his hand on a live wire.

He has seen those eyes before.

"Who're you?" the child demands suspiciously, flinging aside her covers and scrambling to her feet. She is clad in a shapeless, loose shift of bland grey fabric, legs bare from the knees down and feet rather dirty. Even standing atop the pallet with her fists planted on her hips, she is barely taller than Law's crouching form. "Mama says not to let strangers in."

It takes a moment before Law finds his voice, still stunned by his realization of who, exactly, the child might be. "My name is Trafalgar. Where is your mother?"

The little girl stares at him for a moment before looking around, only now seeming to notice that her mother is not present. "I dunno. How come you're here? I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Mama says so."

Law hesitates for a moment before he answers. His gut is screaming at him that this is not just some random dream. He does not yet know what exactly is going on, but he is extremely curious. He plans to get answers to the dozens of questions shooting through his mind, so for the moment he decides to play along. "Your mother... is her name Naomi?"

Eerily familiar green eyes stare into his, devoid of the sadness and shadows he is so accustomed to seeing there. "Yeah."

The Dark Doctor studies the child closely, cataloging the extreme thinness of her limbs and the too-sharp cheekbones even as he cautiously holds out a hand to her with what he hopes is a non-threatening smile. "Then you must be Kyra."

She looks from his face to his outstretched hand for a long moment before answering, her tone one of wariness and confusion as she places her tiny hand in his and gives a firm shake before yanking it away. "Yeah..."

"I am a friend of your mother's," Law lies smoothly, inwardly astonished that his guess had been correct. It would seem that he is talking to the child who will someday grow up to be his magician. She looks even younger than she had at the beginning of their acquaintance, when she was de-aged by the Supernova Jewelry Bonney. At that time she had looked rather like a short, too-thin eight-year-old. The kid in front of Law cannot possibly be older than five, six if one were generous.

_Been killin' people since I was six. Killed my own father..._

There are only two sleeping pallets.

"Can you tell me how old you are, Kyra?" Law inquires, settling down to sit cross-legged on the floor. The suspicious expression on the girl's face instantly vanishes in place of a wide smile missing several teeth.

"Six and a half! Mama says I'm almost a big girl now! How old are you, Mr. Traflager?"

Her face is so disgustingly cute and innocent.

Law is going to be absolutely merciless in his teasing once he gets his magician back.

The girl proceeds to tell him all about her most recent adventures on this island of Veneficus. He listens patiently with half an ear to her stories, his eyes wandering around the cottage as he stores pertinent information for later perusal. Little Kyra talks of playing in mountains of garbage as though speaking of a wonderful playground. She goes on at some length about how much fun she'd had yesterday hiding from someone called a Proeliator when he came to collect her for lessons. She proudly shows him a scar on her arm that she received after outperforming someone called Lihla because the other girl's father had been angry at Kyra's success.

"He's a mean, stinky old wrinkle-head! Mama says he's just mad 'cause I'm better at magic than Lihla. Mama says one day when I'm big and strong I can do whatever I want and the shaman won't be able to do nothin' about it! When I get bigger, I'm gonna turn Lihla into a toad and make the shaman's beard smell like farts! Then me and Mama are gonna go far away from here and we're not ever comin' back!"

She smiles at him again, her extreme youth emphasized by the gaps in her teeth.

She can't know that someday she will be permanently separated from her mother. She can't know that she will endure years of terrible abuse once she leaves these shores; that she will never see her mother again; that the three-inch-long ditch gouged into her arm is nothing compared to the horrific scars that will mar her flesh in the not-so-distant future. Kyra as Law knows her has experienced so many life-shattering disasters that 'innocence' is not a word that will ever be applicable to her again.

Law knows that by the age of six, Kyra had brought a child back to life, killed her father after years of watching him beat the shit out of her mother, and endured roughly a year as an apprentice under the abusive shaman. Listening to her six-year-old self babble on, he reaches yet another conclusion about his magician: she had grown up without a single friend in the world aside from that little shit of a cousin. All her tales consist of her getting into and out of trouble completely alone.

As soon as he comes to this realization, the world around him freezes. Kyra falls silent mid-word, her face and form stopped in the middle of an emphatic gesture.

_**Good, human. You are learning.**_

The Surgeon of Death is on his feet with a threatening scowl on his face as soon as the voice sounds in his ears. "What is this? Why have you shown me this?"

The Divine does not deign to show itself; it merely answers his question in the tone one might use when speaking to an imbecile. _**So that you may see what you have failed to comprehend. So that you will know how precious is the person whom you claim to love. Your knowledge is limited, Trafalgar Law. I shall rectify that problem.**_

In the next instant Law finds himself standing at the base of a gigantic mound of junk. Other mountains of trash can be seen in every direction, with shacks of various sizes and conditions built in-between - and in some cases on - the garbage. At present, it would seem that no one is around. There is no sound of children playing, no adult voices speaking back and forth. Though it would appear to be a beautiful cloudless day out, not even the sounds of wildlife can be heard.

The smell of blood is much heavier now.

A movement draws Law's gaze upward, showing a hunched figure sitting atop the junk pile with its back to the pirate. The figure's torso is wrapped in bandages, some of which are already beginning to seep crimson. Selecting his handholds carefully so as not to topple the stack of trash, Law ascends to the top for a closer look.

She is older now, at least ten years of age. She does not look around as he pulls himself up beside her and makes himself comfortable. She is wearing a pair of tattered trousers with a large hole in one knee, her bare feet hanging over the side of the pile while her hands grip the coarse fabric of the trousers in a white-knuckled grip. There is a new weight on her shoulders; where she was so overwhelmingly energetic at the age of six, this version of Kyra seems impossibly worn down.

They sit in silence for what seems a long time before Kyra sighs and says, "I didn't even do anything wrong. That old lady would have died if I hadn't helped, and that stupid Proeliator shouldn't have gotten away with blasting her like that. She's not even magic. Just some old crone who spilt her water bucket on the jerk's robes."

Law does not inquire as to why the girl seems so unsurprised to see him. "What happened?"

She shrugs, hissing as more red blotches instantly bloom upon her bandages. "Same old crap. I was finally done with my stupid lessons, so I was coming home and I saw this Proeliator picking on some old lady. His robes were wet. I think he bumped into her or something, I don't know. It doesn't matter."

Kyra stops talking for a long moment, sniffling slightly and rubbing a hand roughly over her eyes. "He threw a power ball at her. It hit her right in the chest, threw her back, she hit the wall really hard. She wasn't even breathing anymore. When I ran over to fix her, her head was turned at a funny angle. I think she broke her neck when she hit the wall. So I'm all nice and fix her neck and the bruises and everything, and as soon as the witch noticed me she started screaming about the abomination and then she slapped me! And the Proeliator slapped me too, he said a _sordes_ doesn't have the right to undo something a Proeliator does! And then he took me back to the city center and I got fifty lashes from the shaman for interfering! I hate him! I hate it all!"

She is sobbing by this time, beating her small fists against her thighs in anger and frustration. Law does not try to offer her comfort; he is sure that to touch the girl now would be a very bad idea. He simply sits where he is and watches his little magician throw a well-deserved temper tantrum.

Her voice is thick with tears when she spits out, "I hate this stupid island! I hate these people! I hate magic! I got whipped for helping that stupid hag, and she called me a monster! I hate her! I hate everything!"

She grabs up a piece of garbage and hurls it away from her with a scream of rage. Law watches in silence as wisps of black energy begin to bleed out of her, swaying like snakes through the air and ripping up small chunks of the junk mountain on which they sit. The sight of them serves only to enrage the child further, as she resorts to jumping to her feet and trying to strike the proof of her own powers while angry tears bathe her cheeks.

_**"I **__**hate you! I hate you! You didn't come back! You left just like Jeri did, you asshole! I thought you were my friend and you just disappeared, you left me like Jeri did and Papa and everybody else! Let's all just abandon the freak, who cares if it hurts her, she's just a monster! Nobody cares, nobody! I'm always alone! I hate you! I HATE YOU, ASSHOLE! GO AWAY! I HATE YOU!"**_

The unnerving voice coming from the child sends chills down Law's spine, but he does not move to flee as she so obviously expects him to. He sits calmly atop the trash heap even as little Kyra's powers rip through it like a maelstrom. When it finally topples, Law jumps to the ground and waits until the debris settles before going to the child's side and sitting once again. He keeps his face perfectly calm even as she stares at him in a fury that has her hollow cheeks flushing red. He doesn't move when the kid lunges at him, beating her little fists against his torso while screaming at him to leave.

Her magic doesn't so much as brush against him once.

After a while Law reaches out and catches the girl's wrists in his hands, pulling her down and twisting her until she is slumped in his lap with her back pressed against his chest. She is sobbing in earnest now, the bandages soiled with large splotches of blood. The pain must be excruciating, but the surgeon does not think that is why his little magician weeps.

"Take me with you! _Please,_ take me with you this time, please I'll be good! Please! Don't leave me here again! I _have_ to get out of here, I have to get Mama _away_ from here, I'll go anywhere, do anything you want, anything, just _please_ -!"

Law says nothing. He does not try to sooth her tears or make false promises. He sits lost in the piles of junk for as long as it takes for the child to cry herself to sleep, not once uttering a sound.

Only when her breath has evened out does the Surgeon of Death open his mouth and whisper, "Enough."

The girl in his lap vanishes. His surroundings change to the familiarity of his room aboard his submarine, lit only by the moonlight filtering in from the windows. The Divine stands near the door, wings pressed close to its back and arms crossed over its massive chest.

"Well, human? Do you begin to understand?"

Sitting upright, Law slowly tears his eyes from where moments ago a young girl sobbed in his lap to fix the immortal with a look that would cause the fiercest of men to cower in fear. "Understand what?"

What? That Kyra's childhood had been hell? That she has suffered? Does the Divine truly think for even a moment that Law does not already know this? He has known since her first months with him, since reading Navy files detailing her time as Merrick's lab rat. He's seen every scar on every inch of her body. He's seen the shadows in her eyes that would not be there had her life before they met contained an abundance of rainbows and sunshine. Law is very well aware of the pain his magician has suffered. Why does this damned monster think he needs to live through it with her?

Said monster cocks its head at the surgeon, its expression brooding. "We were mistaken, human. I was mistaken. But I shall not rectify this mishap yet. I believe that what you are doing is the correct path. You grow closer to your target with every day that passes, while the little one is relatively safe with her new companions. Soon enough she will find you again; it is my hope that by that time you will have killed the one you seek. He is a dangerous mortal, human. You will need to exercise extreme caution against him. I do not know if you will be able to defeat him without my aid. We shall see when the time comes."

Law eyes the Divine, momentarily thrown by its almost polite manner. Is it actually trying to give him advice? "What exactly were we mistaken about, Mr. Divine? I'm afraid you need to elaborate."

Ebony feathers rustle slightly as the immortal shifts against the wall. "She is miserable. I did not foresee the depths of her feelings for you. Had I possessed a deeper understanding... I do not think I would have sent her away. I regret it. Perhaps the choice is already made, though why she would choose the likes of you over what I have to offer is beyond my comprehension."

Law's eyes narrow at the creature's words. "The choice?"

The Divine has mentioned a choice before, when explaining how it used Law for its own purposes to separate him from his magician. It had claimed that the distance and the eradication of the soul bond could possibly be beneficial, that Kyra would have a 'clearer head' with which to decide.

Apparently that plan has backfired.

It continues talking as though the pirate had never uttered a word. "If you are to be blessed with her love, I shall endeavor to tolerate your continued existence for her sake. I shall come to your aid if need be - for her. But I will extract my payment from you, Trafalgar Law. You will know the pain my little one has suffered. You will relive her memories as though they are happening now, in the present. You will not be seen by any but her. You will not be capable of aiding her in any way other than what help you may provide with your company alone. You will relive the worst moments of her life, and you will be helpless to do anything for her as she begs for your aid."

Impossibly green eyes bore into grey. "That will be your punishment, human, for taking her from me. Watching her suffer in your dreams will be your penance."

In the next instant it disappears, leaving Law alone in his room with his thoughts and questions.

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><p>Kyra hides in the shadows thrown across the deck of the Thousand Sunny by the setting sun, deliberating.<p>

Well, actually, stalling would be the proper word for what she is doing. Deliberating would suggest that she has yet to reach a decision as to her next course of action. The witch came to such a decision hours ago. She knows exactly what she has to do. The problem is that she needs to ask a certain someone for a favor. Kyra is loath to do so, not fond of the idea of putting herself in someone's debt - especially this guy. He's a jackass. He's so arrogant she doesn't see how his ego hasn't choked him yet. He's a pirate from a crew that is naturally a rival to her own. Asking him for help almost seems like a betrayal to Law and her boys, even though she's only doing so in an effort to get back to them.

There's no help for it. As much as it grates on her pride, Kyra is going to have to do it.

She steps out of the shadows and calls out, "Hey, Ace!"

There is a flash of flames out of the corner of her eye. Kyra turns and heads in that direction, meeting Fire Fist Ace over by the lion figurehead where he is chatting with his brother. In the near month since she was dumped on this ship, Kyra has rarely seen one of the D's without the other. They seem to move and think as one, meshing like a well-oiled machine for all that one tends to fall asleep at the most random of times and the other is hyperactive to the point of extreme annoyance on the part of those around him. Actually, it kind of reminds her of herself and Law, except not because... well…

_Ew._

"What's up, Kyra?" Ace asks now, grinning easily at her. Kyra has noticed that despite the fact that most of his brothers-in-arms avoid Kyra like the plague, Ace is always very calm around her. Many is the time that the man has dozed off in her proximity, whether at meals or mid-conversation with someone else. Kyra wonders if it has something to do with the fact that their souls have touched. The men of Law's crew whom she returned from the dead all had the same manner of ease around her after their resurrections. It is a strange but hardly unwelcome side-effect of this most cherished of her gifts.

Kyra blows out an exasperated breath, annoyed with the question she must now ask this man. "I need to talk to Marco. Can you arrange a private audience with His Majesty?"

Before Ace can reply, Straw Hat gives a loud snort and elbows his brother in the ribs with a grin.

"Heh, she wants a private audience," the young scoundrel snickers, clasping his hands together and bringing them up under his chin. He bats his eyelashes in Kyra's direction and coos at her in a disturbing manner. "Wanna borrow some of Nami's clothes, Kyra? You could look _pretty_ for your private audience with_ Marco_."

Kyra takes a moment to debate the pros and cons of flinging the rubber idiot into the sea. Deciding that she does not quite wish to drown him today, she instead waves her hand at him in a dismissive fashion. The yellow sash Luffy wears tied around his waist instantly comes free and wraps itself tightly around his throat, choking his laughter into gagging silence.

"So was that a yes or a no, Fire Fist?" she asks nonchalantly as Luffy struggles to free himself from the killer clothing. Ace swallows audibly before quickly nodding his head. He grabs his choking brother by the elbow and hauls the boy after him as he flees to the skies with a burst of fire, his excellent control keeping the flames from barbecuing Luffy in the process. Kyra allows the magic possessing Luffy's sash to fade lest she asphyxiate the brat.

Moments later, a magnificent bird of blue and gold flames lands on the deck to her right. As soon as its feet touch the flat surface, the beautiful creature transforms into the much-less-pleasing visage of Marco. His face dons his habitually sleepy expression, a constant ruse that has cost many a cocky fool their lives. Kyra has no fear of him - she could tear him to pieces at a moment's notice, phoenix healing be damned - but she does possess something of a wary respect for the man. After the past month of his occasional company, it is easy to understand how such a person became Edward Newgate's right-hand man.

"Ace said you wanted to talk to me, yoi." Marco smirks lazily while moving to the railing, leaning against it casually with the air of a man who owns the world. "I'm flattered by your attentions. The boys had their doubts, but I knew you'd warm up to me eventually, yoi."

Has Kyra mentioned that she really doesn't like this arrogant jerk?

A mental command encases the two of them in a protective, sound-proof sphere. Marco does not flinch as Kyra's shield forces him slightly away from the railing, does not cower at the reality of being trapped in this relatively small space with one such as her. He just folds his arms over his chest and quirks an impossibly arched eyebrow at her.

"Wanting privacy already? I usually don't go this fast, but if you want, I suggest making the dome something other than transparent, yoi. I'm not really in to the whole public displays of affection thing."

Kyra ignores his words as though they were never spoken. "I need a favor."

The seriousness of her tone is apparently sufficient for Marco to drop the act. He studies her in silence for a moment before saying, "Okay. Ask, then."

"I need someone to help me find the Shichibukai Donquixote Doflamingo. I have some things to talk to him about. I can protect whoever goes, they won't be harmed, and I'll make sure that even if something goes wrong they'll be sent back here whether I return or not."

"And you wanted my permission to take one of my boys, yoi." This is not a question, merely a confirmation of fact. Kyra nods in the affirmative. "Why not ask one of Straw Hat's people? You have to know they'd all jump at the promise of a fight."

"I don't want to fight. Not unless it's unavoidable. I just want to talk. I need to know if you can tell me where he is. That's it. If you can, I want to know if you'll act as a guide for my powers so I can get to him. If you can't, I'd appreciate the names of anybody you can think of who can put me in contact with him."

"Why?"

Kyra eyes Marco in slight annoyance. "Why what?"

"Why do you want to talk to Doflamingo? I can get you his location; we've had our eyes on all of the remaining Shichibukai ever since Marineford. But if I'm going with you to talk to him, I'd like to know what you'll be talking about."

"I have a favor to ask of him. What's it matter to you? I won't let him or his buddies hurt you. You'll be in no danger. You're going to hear it all anyway if you're going with me. Can't you just find out where he is so we can get going?"

Marco is suddenly standing very, very close to her. Kyra rears back in shock, a hand coming up to push him away even as her magic lashes out at him from all sides of the barrier surrounding them. Her wrist is caught in a rough grip, which pulls her back towards the phoenix until they stand chest-to-chest.

"Let go of me." It is not a request, but a demand. Phoenix Marco is about two seconds away from having his limbs ripped off by the powers currently boiling angrily under her skin. If he doesn't let go very quickly, the likelihood of him walking away from this conversation alive is slim to none - and Kyra wants nothing to do with handling his soul as she brings the bastard back to life.

He listens, miraculously, releasing her arm and stepping away. His bored expression never flickers, even as his Devil Fruit heals the various bleeding gashes now adorning his flesh. "How are you going to have a conversation with a guy like Donquixote Doflamingo if you can't stand to have a man near you like that, yoi? Do you know anything about Joker? That," he gestures between them with one hand, "was mild compared to how he'll probably act when you two meet. He fancies himself a lady's man, and it's not going to go well for anyone involved if you try to gut the guy five seconds after entering his presence, yoi. Maybe you should just tell me what this favor you want from him is and I do what I can on your behalf."

Kyra glares at him, annoyed that he did that just to make a point. A month has been more than enough time for all the pirates she's currently stuck with to learn that she is not a touchy-feely person. He could have just said all that without the freaking demonstration. She reins in the furious power and molds it to her skin, holding one hand palm out to Marco when she's done. "Try that again."

He doesn't even hesitate, doesn't even seem to consider the possible danger of his actions. He simply steps over and grasps her hand in his.

Or at least tries to. The several inches of impenetrable space around her skin makes physical contact impossible.

Marco smirks slightly as she tells him, "I can take care of myself just fine, birdy. So could you just go talk to your spies already? I want to get this over with sometime today."

The older man pulls his hand back to ruffle what little orange hair still rests atop his oddly shaped head with a huff of laughter. "So impatient. You should really learn to get more enjoyment out of life, yoi. You never know when you might breathe your last, especially in our profession. Give me half an hour and I'll see what I can dig up."

While Marco is occupied elsewhere, Kyra retreats to the roof of the crow's nest to watch the sun finish its descent over the horizon.

So this will be the night she finally meets Law's old boss.

They spoke about him only once. She had been with Law's crew for more than a year at that point, bonded with Law for most of that time. It had seemed a coincidental question, her initial inquiry as to the origin of the pronged Jolly Roger that her captain had recently tattooed upon her skin. How was she supposed to know Law absolutely hated his old commander's guts? She's never gotten the details as to why, since she'd never brought up the subject again after that first time. She can't help but wonder just what the hell Doflamingo did to Law, to bring that kind of burning fury to her calm captain's eyes with just a mention of him.

Law had told her before he forcefully closed the subject that Doflamingo is the man who owned that auction house in Saoboady that tried to sell her.

She must remember to have a little talk with the man about just why it wouldn't be a good thing for something like that to happen to her again.

Ever.

When the phoenix comes back to collect her, Kyra notices that he has a rather wry smirk on his face. Her paranoia instantly flares to life; why is he looking at her like that? What's he thinking?

"What?" she demands as soon as he is close enough to hear her. Marco just gives a shake of his head, extending his hand towards her. Kyra eyes him for a moment, wanting badly to know what that look is about and fairly certain the phoenix is hiding something from her that she is not going to like. Grudgingly, she accepts his hand and loosens the leash on her powers, deciding that she will trust him for the moment if it means getting what she wants. The pair of them are soon engulfed in a cloud of blackness which hides the world from view for a short period before clearing to show a complete change of scenery.

They are no longer standing on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, out in the middle of the sea with no land in sight. Their new location looks like a tropical resort. And the people surrounding them are most certainly not members of the Straw Hat or Whitebeard pirates.

Plus half of them are naked. Mustn't forget _that_ little detail. Not to mention what most are currently engaged in.

'Ew' doesn't seem to cover it this time.

"What the fuck, Marco." Kyra's voice is much too flat for her words to be taken as a question. Marco simply shrugs as she drops his hand in disgust, eyeing the crowd around them that is currently staring at the two strangers who have just magically appeared in their midst.

"Doflamingo enjoys his pleasures."

"So you couldn't have given me a head's up that we'd be coming to a brothel? It would have been nice to know so I could have avoided the group orgy, here." She flaps her fingers at the gawking crowd, in case the man hasn't yet processed what exactly he has landed them in.

"Sorry," is the reply, given in such an unrepentant tone that only an idiot of Monkey D. Luffy's caliber would believe it. "I don't see why you'd care anyway. It's not exactly a secret that you've been sleeping with Straw Hat, yoi."

Asshole!

"It's not my fault the brat drags me to his freakin' hammock every night!" Kyra snaps, bristling at the suggestion in Marco's words. "The guy's made out of rubber - _you_ try prying him off without killing him, once he gets his hands on you. Apparently he's decided that I make the world's best teddy bear. It's not like _that,_ you jerk!"

Marco just smirks at her.

Huffing, Kyra turns away from her irritating companion and grabs the closest person by the ear, afraid to reach any lower when most of these people seem to have gone native. "You. Tell me where to find Joker or I'll force-feed you your own guts."

In record time the witch and the phoenix are escorted to a more private part of the brothel, ushered into a dark room smelling strongly of sickly sweet smoke and sweat. Kyra frowns in distaste as she peers into the poorly lit chamber, ears picking up the sounds of several people breathing and fidgeting before her eyes adjust enough for her to see properly.

Her tone is one of derision when she speaks. "With all the shit I've heard about you, I didn't take you for a chicken-shit coward who has to hide with his whores when a monster comes to visit."

There is a long moment of silence. Then someone bursts out laughing.

"Fufufufufu! I should have expected Trafalgar's favorite squeeze to be a wild one! Come in, little witch. Make yourself comfortable!"

Kyra's frown deepens. "Hey Marco, can you give me some light? Since our host is apparently an asshole?"

Marco obliges, and the room descends into chaos as soon as his blue-gold flames light up the chamber.

Gunfire and foolish war cries split the air as men begin throwing themselves at Kyra. They are dead before they can lay hands on her, their blood spraying the walls as the Demon Witch flickers around amongst them. Part of her brain registers that the room is full of Marines rather than the whores she expected even as she puts her hand through a particularly brawny bastard's chest cavity. What are Marines doing here? That deep laughter is ringing out again, men are cursing, and a woman's voice screams out, "Fall back! Fools! Fall back at once!"

Kyra takes the chance to retreat back to Marco, who has been trapped by the door in a semi-dome of her powers since they walked into the room. He is standing there as calm as you please, hands in his pockets with arms and torso emitting continuous tongues of flames. She spares him a brief glance to confirm that he is unharmed before focusing once more on the room at large.

She's made a bit of a mess: blood and corpses litter the floor from her counter-offensive. The living Marines are all massed across from her, brandishing weapons and yelling nonsense about freaks. A man smoking three cigars at once catches her eye. He is standing at the front of the crowd, a strange-looking pole of some sort in one hand and his eyes fixed on Kyra. At his side stands the only other woman in the room, presumably the one who had ordered the Marines back moments before. She wields a sword and quite the impressive scowl on her bespectacled face. Both of these people look vaguely familiar.

Off to one side sits a man whom Kyra recognizes instantly as the Shichibukai Doflamingo, Law's former commander and the prick that almost sold her in his stupid auction house. The fluffy pink feather coat is something of a giveaway. He sports a massive grin, lounging on a couch with his arms spread across the back and looking completely at ease in spite of the butchered man at his feet or the blood splashed across his face.

"I forgot for a moment that you're one of the World Government's little bitches," Kyra comments nonchalantly, wiggling her hands to shake some of the gore off. "I guess I should have made an appointment before showing up. I like Marines about as much as Law likes you."

Doflamingo belts out a laugh at this, the same bellow of mirth that has been ringing off and on since Kyra entered the room. "That reminds me! How is dear little Trafalgar these days? I haven't seen the boy in ages! It was pretty rude of him not to introduce us, Demon Witch! And here I think of the punk as a cute little brother!"

He leans forward, removing his arms from the back of the couch and resting them across his knees instead. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of purple sunglasses, yet Kyra can feel them sliding over her skin like slime. "You're not half bad looking, you know. Never could fault Trafalgar for taste. And you've got one hell of a left hook, fufufufu!"

Here he nudges the corpse at his feet, grinning like a maniac. The body's back has a hole in it just the size of Kyra's fist; its heart must be one of several currently scattered around the floor.

"Isn't this convenient, though? My buddies here were just demanding that I give them a way to contact the newest Shichibukai to deliver the good news of his promotion when his lovely little witch shows up out of nowhere. Is Trafalgar here with you, pretty little monster?"

Kyra's gaze meanders over to the Marines again, her magic jumping in agitation just under the leash of her control. "No. Who the fuck are they?"

The female Marine opens her mouth, but before she can make a vitriolic reply a burly soldier directly behind her yells out an answer of his own.

"We're the G-5 Marines, pirate scum! Under the direct command of Vice-Admiral Smoker and Captain Tashigi here! You'd better show some respect if you know what's good for -!"

Kyra makes a circular motion with one hand. The shouting Marine's head rotates a full three hundred and sixty degrees, snapping his neck and spinal cord. The man with three cigars yanks his lady companion out of the way as the new corpse collapses to the floor.

"Fuck you. What do you shits want with Law?" Kyra's voice is ice-cold and as deadly as a naked blade. The muscular morons compromising the majority of the men across from her gape open-mouthed at their newly-dead comrade for a long moment. Guns held in grips gone lax with shock are instantly whipped up to point in Kyra's direction.

"That's enough already!" the cigar man barks out, sounding exasperated. "Do not engage without my orders! Stand down, idiots! She can kill you all without breaking a sweat, just stay out of it!"

"Nice to know at least one of you has a brain," Kyra remarks snidely, letting a little of her magic bleed into her eyes to turn them black. The reaction of the soldiers is rather entertaining, though their lack of discipline is beyond pathetic. "Maybe you can answer my question, Smokestack. I'll repeat it for you: what do you shits want with Law?"

The Marine regards her with all the warmth of an iceberg, teeth clenched hard around his multiple cigars. "As Doflamingo said, woman. Your captain has been granted the title of Shichibukai. Where is he?"

What? But Law had told her before sending her away that the position of Shichibukai wasn't of interest to him. And didn't Merrick say that they'd both be made into Warlords once he had Blackbeard's head in his possession? "That doesn't make any sense. Last I heard, my captain didn't care to be a government dog."

"Well, maybe you should ask him why he sent a hundred Marine hearts to HQ, Demon Witch!" the Marine woman snaps in reply. "Tell us where he is! Vice-Admiral Smoker has better things to do with his time than play messenger to a filthy pirate!"

Cigar man, who Kyra guesses is Vice-Admiral Smoker, silences the woman with a glance before addressing Kyra again. "Where's your captain, pirate?"

Kyra doesn't answer, too busy digesting what she's just been told. One hundred Marine hearts. Law took hearts out of the cold locker on the sub and sent them to the Marines? Law is a Shichibukai now? What is that crazy bastard doing?

"Law, you son of a bitch," she mutters to herself, wishing more than ever that she could get back to her captain.

"H-hey! Vice-Admiral Smoker asked you a question!"

"I don't give a shit, asshole!" Kyra snaps in reply, running frustrated hands through her hair. "Just shut up already, I didn't come here to argue with fucking Marines." She turns her glare back to the chuckling Doflamingo, annoyance growing by the second. "I need to talk to you in private."

"Oh, really?" the large man snickers, grin widening to proportions that should only be possible for Luffy with his rubber body. "What's so important that you would seek me out for a private conversation, hmm? Usually when gorgeous women come looking for me, it's because they want to experience a taste of heaven. While I'm completely open to such a tryst -"

He bellows with laughter as he jumps away from the couch, which is shredding itself in a violent fashion as Kyra seethes in fury.

"- you don't seem the type!"

"I need a favor," the sorceress spits out, glaring daggers at the feather-bedecked pirate. He comes towards her in a bow-legged waddle, his much taller frame looming over her as he bends so that their noses nearly touch.

"A favor?" Doflamingo repeats, his voice very soft. "What favor could the Demon Witch want from me, and what payment would you be willing to offer?"

"The favor is none of their business," Kyra retorts, flapping one hand in the direction of the gawking Marines. "And we can discuss possible payment later. Can we get a little privacy, please?"

The continuous chuckle rolling from that man is really starting to get on her nerves. He straightens up slightly and prances to the door, smirking at Marco while the phoenix merely steps out of his way. The blue-gold flames die as the Shichibukai flings the portal open, bathing the room with light from the hallway and sauntering out of sight with a gesture for Kyra to follow. She does so, sidestepping bodies and pausing in front of Marco for just a moment. "Will you stay here?"

One arched eyebrow rises. "I thought I was going to get to hear what you wanted to ask, yoi."

"I lied," is the flat reply as she walks out, pulling the door shut behind her and sealing it with her powers. She isn't worried about Marco; a bunch of idiots like that won't be able to lay a finger on him. Doflamingo is disappearing up a set of stairs at the end of the hall. She follows him in silence, not hesitating when he gestures her into what appears to be a mix of a bedroom and a lounge. He closes the door on them and waltzes over to yet another luxurious couch, settling in and making himself comfortable.

"So, now that we're alone..." Doflamingo grins over at her, obviously enjoying himself. "What was that favor, little witch?"

"Do you know of the Rear-Admiral Rafe Merrick?" Kyra inquires, staying near the doorway and leaning her back against the richly papered walls. She is banking on his affirmative reply. Doflamingo is an underworld broker of immense reputation, a fiend, and a Shichibukai with past ties to the Heart Pirates. She is staking a lot on the fact that Merrick would have taken the first chance to get a foothold with this man, one step closer to his target.

"Fufufufu, oh yes, the newest Rear-Admiral. We've crossed paths a time or two. Why do you ask?"

Kyra pauses for just a moment, considering her plans one last time. What she is thinking to do is extremely dangerous. There is a great chance that it will blow up in her face. Law, the crew, the Straw Hats, possibly the Whitebeard leftovers - all of them might suffer if this doesn't go the way she hopes. And now with Law apparently the newest Warlord, that is another complication to factor in.

But she does not see another way. Trafalgar cannot defeat someone like Blackbeard as he is, his fighting style so heavily reliant on the Devil Fruit powers that will be useless against Teach. Merrick will kill him if the two cross swords again. And after a month of careful observation, she has her doubts about Straw Hat and his little friends finding success against the Yonkou either. She is a sentimental fool; she cares for those idiots just enough not to want them to die so recklessly. This is her only chance. If this fails, she will give herself up so that Law might stay safe.

This is the only way.

"I need you to get me on his ship. Without him knowing it."

She will have to reclaim her heart on her own.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>"KYYYYRA! YOU CAN'T LEAVE YET! DON'T GOOOOOOO!"<p>

The Demon Witch allows herself to be subjected to the indignity of having Straw Hat Luffy tackle her to the deck of his ship so that he might wrap his arms and legs around her multiple times. He is sobbing without restraint as though about to lose contact with his closest friend for the rest of their lives.

Kyra lies in his embrace, letting him bawl into her shoulder as she meets the unhappy gaze of Fire Fist Ace. The older D is standing over her, looking frantic at the thought of the sorceress' imminent departure. The Straw Hat crew, minus their wailing captain, are clustered close by with varying expressions, none of them exactly pleased. She thinks the reindeer might be crying a little, but it's kind of hard to tell from this position.

"Change of plans: I won't be meeting up with Law. He'd flip his shit if he knew what I'm going to do. Can you get your brother off of me, please?"

Ace grudgingly does so. Kyra climbs to her feet and sighs in resignation when Luffy immediately latches onto her again, grip on her arms so powerful it hurts.

"But you can't leave! I want you to stay!" Tears are still pouring down the boy's cheeks; Kyra is baffled by such a display of emotion. Luffy has only been in her company for a month - why is he so upset?

"I can't stay. I've got things to take care of," Kyra explains flatly, keeping her face clear of her confusion. "I've wasted enough time already. I've got to go now."

"What kind of things do you need to take care of, witch?" This from the scowling figure of Zoro, one hand resting on the hilt of his white sword. "And why do you have to leave to do it? Don't trust us to help you or something?"

"If I didn't trust you, I'd have gone somewhere else to mope a long time ago," Kyra replies rather dryly, putting her foot against Luffy's chest and pushing. The rubber pirate's arms stretch to adapt to the new space between them, but he does not release her. "You can't help me. I don't want any of you getting hurt or dying because of me. So I'll go alone."

"What about me? Or Marco?" Ace pipes up, gently prying his brother off for the second time. "We're almost immortal, sort of. We can't be shot or cut or whatever. We could go and watch your back."

Why would he offer something like that, not knowing exactly what she plans to do yet? Kyra eyes the pyrotechnic warily. "I don't feel like racking up a debt to the Whitebeard remnants, thanks."

"It wouldn't be like that," Fire Fist insists, sounding slightly offended. "You resurrected me! If anybody's in debt here, it's me."

Kyra is still getting used to that concept. "Then keep your brother from grabbing me when I actually leave. We'll be square, if you do that and don't try to stop me. Fair enough?"

Fire Fist immediately opens his mouth, probably to keep arguing with her, but Kyra has already turned away. Just one last thing before she returns to that arrogant flamingo for her trip to Merrick. All these years of running from the man, only for her to literally drop herself in his grasp as a means of protecting someone else. At that moment Kyra really wishes she had learned how to be so ruthless as to not give a shit about anyone but herself. It would make life so much less complicated right now. Maybe she should just leave Law out of the loop, like he did sending her away at the absolute last second when it was too late for her to prevent their separation.

But... she might die soon. Or be bound to Merrick, which is a fate worse than death. And if these things come to pass, Kyra wants to have the comfort of knowing that she at least said goodbye to the most important person in her life. She never got a chance with her mother; she needs this chance with Law.

She approaches the feisty Strawhat navigator hesitantly, not because she is afraid of the woman but because she is unsure whether her next request is seriously a wise idea. Maybe not. "Can I use some of your paper and something to write with?" she asks, glad her voice does not tremble. She needs to do this quickly and leave, before her courage fails her.

"Sure. It'll cost you ten thousand belli per sheet," Cat Burglar Nami replies flippantly, one hand on her hip as she uses the other to toss her long orange hair over a shoulder.

Kyra stares at her for a moment, wondering if this woman is joking or just insatiably greedy. Like hell she's paying any money. If the navigator doesn't feel like cooperating, Kyra will paralyze everyone on board the ship until she writes the damn letter anyway and leaves.

Her choices are taken away when Luffy shuffles over to stand at her side, eyes shadowed by the brim of his famous hat. "Let her use your stuff, Nami. Don't charge her."

Nami sends her captain an incredulous look. "Luffy, do you have any idea how hard it is for me to get ahold of that kind of paper? How am I supposed to map everything out if I don't have any-"

_"Nami."_

Kyra instantly tenses, taking an involuntary step away from Straw Hat at the tone of his voice. It is not at all that of the foolish rubber twit who refuses to leave her alone, the boy who eats like a pig and picks his nose when he doesn't understand something enough to be interested. It is quiet, powerful, dangerous.

It reminds her of Law in a fury.

"Kyra's our friend," Luffy reminds his navigator, eyes still hidden by his hat. "She needs some paper. Give it to her, and some privacy to write. I know you use that paper to make your maps, and I get that you don't want to give stuff away when it's helping with your dream. But Kyra really needs that paper. She's gotta send someone a letter."

Kyra stares at the boy incredulously. How the hell did he know? Is this kid psychic or something?

The captain's voice makes it quite clear that there is no option for refusal. Nami's eyes search Luffy's face for a long moment before she sighs and straightens her spine to perfection.

"Aye-aye, Captain," she murmurs softly, walking by him with a gesture for Kyra to follow. The mage does so, watching Luffy uneasily all the while. This boy is different than most any she has ever met before. If she lives through this, Kyra makes a mental note to tell Law that Straw Hat Luffy bears some close scrutiny if the Surgeon of Death wants to claim One Piece before he does.

The navigator wordlessly leads Kyra to the women's quarters, where she immediately produces a thin stack of high-quality paper and a single pen. The former she places on Kyra's cot; the latter is leveled at the sorceress like a weapon.

"Listen up," Nami hisses quietly, obviously not wanting the others to hear her. "You have no idea what Luffy is asking by making me do this. My captain has never, not once in all the time I've known him, done a single thing that might impede any of us in the pursuit of our dreams. And that's _exactly _what he's doing now. So you better be grateful, Demon Witch, and you better not hurt him."

The girl proceeds to throw the pen at Kyra before stomping past her out of the room, slamming the door shut as she leaves. The mage moves to sit on the cot, transferring the paper to her lap and then staring at it for a long time without moving. What is she supposed to write? How do you say goodbye to someone you love? She has no experience with this, and it is not the type of thing she feels comfortable questioning anyone but Law about.

Quite the dilemma, seeing that it's Law she's trying to say goodbye to.

_I __love you, my magician._

_Stay safe._

Damn her luck.

It takes a hell of a lot longer than Kyra had anticipated to finish the damn note. Finally, the sorceress tosses the pen aside and stands, not caring that she scatters Nami's precious paper across the floor in the process. A few sheets of the stuff are clutched in her hands; she folds them carefully in half before turning to place them in her satchel. At the last moment she reaches up and drags her mother's locket from her neck, placing it with the letter before cinching the drawstrings tight.

Kyra places her hand on the outside of the bag and feeds magic into it, thinking hard about exactly where on the sub she wants it to appear. After a moment, the pack is engulfed in black and vanishes into thin air, taking all of her worldly belongings with it. She has only the clothes on her back; even Law's old fur hat is in that bag, now waiting for the newest Shichibukai on his bed.

He's probably going to be really pissed off when he reads that note.

Oh, well. At least he should be safe.

Kyra breezes out of the women's quarters empty-handed, leaving Nami's paper in a neat stack on the bitchy woman's bedding. Her hands, which have started to shake at the enormity of this venture, are jammed into the front pockets of her trousers. She doesn't want any of the Straw Hats or Whitebeards to see that she is afraid.

Marco has shown up on deck while Kyra was busy. He stands next to Ace, Luffy on his brother's opposite side, all three of them watching the Heart pirate approach with creepily blank expressions. Kyra eyes them suspiciously in return. "What?"

Marco holds a hand out to her as though in offering. It takes a moment for her to register the tiny snail sitting in the pirate's palm, sound asleep and sporting a shell the color of Marco's phoenix flames. Ace and Luffy likewise proffer their own miniature Den-Den Mushi's, one of them with a fire-adorned shell and one wearing the smallest straw hat Kyra has ever seen. She glances over them for a moment before raising an eyebrow at the trio.

"I can't take those with me. Keep them," she says, waving her hand dismissively at the admittedly touching gifts. Under different circumstances she would accept them with genuine thanks, pleased to have a means of communication with at least two of the crazy fools. But that isn't feasible here.

"Don't be stupid, girlie," Marco deadpans even as he hides the snail away on his person. "You want to tell us how we're supposed to explain to the newest Shichibukai that we let…?"

"He'll know you didn't have a choice," Kyra immediately interrupts, shrugging in a dismissive manner. "He'll be furious, but not with you people. I'll be the one in deep shit with him, and right now I don't care. I appreciate the concern, and the offers - really, I can't tell you what that means to me. But it doesn't change anything. You don't know the kind of people I'm about to piss off. They'd kill you all in a heartbeat."

She glances up at the sun to gauge the time. "I should go. Thanks for the hospitality," Kyra says without looking at any of them. "I appreciate everything you've done for me." She loosens the leash on her magic, which begins to closely creep upward to encase her in a solid black cocoon. "I've got to go. That prick Doflamingo is waiting, and I've always hated goodbyes anyway. Take care of yourselves, yeah?"

Luffy is now holding the sobbing Chopper, wailing right along with him in a most undignified manner. The rest of the Straw Hats wear expressions ranging from uncaring to disappointed to upset, depending on the person. Ace looks as though he'd like nothing more than to spring forward and force Kyra to take him with her; only the restraining hand of Marco on his arm keeps him in his place, the phoenix meeting Kyra's eyes and giving a single slow nod of understanding.

And then her magic swallows her whole and the Demon Witch blinks out of existence.

* * *

><p><em>Puru-puru-puru-puru!<em>

_*Click*_

"How may I help you, Sir Doflamingo?"

"_Fufufufu! _Actually, Rear Admiral, it's more of a question of what _I'm_ about to do for _you!"_

"I hate to be rude, but you'll understand that I'm somewhat busy of late. Please make it fast."

"How quickly can you get to my establishment on Bagnio Island? I've got a special little lady coming any minute now who I think you'd like to greet."

"...You're certain?"

"Black hair, green eyes, Trafalgar's Jolly Roger tattooed on her neck - oh, and let's not forget that interesting black energy she can throw around like nobody's business! Sound like your gal?"

"Yes. Please do not allow her to leave if she arrives before I do. I will be there shortly, I need to make a few arrangements first."

"_Fufufufu_-!"

_*Click*_

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law wakes to knocking on the door to his room, Bepo's subdued voice calling through the metal. The light through his small windows indicate that it is late morning.<p>

"Captain, sorry to bother you, but there's a Navy ship on approach. We were just wondering what you want us to do."

Law stares at the door, a frown of concentration on his face. Normally he would simply tell Bepo to blast the damn Marines out of the water. But considering he still hasn't heard anything about his little present for the Navy, he decides against killing them now. If he feels like it after talking to them, a little slaughter before lunch might perk his crew up a bit.

"Tell the men to prepare themselves and meet me on deck. I'll be there shortly."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

Time to begin another day.

* * *

><p>Kyra's hackles go up the second she reappears in Doflamingo's whorehouse. The air feels <em>wrong<em>. All of the people that had been present when she visited are gone; the place is deserted but for the older pirate, who is sitting at one of the tables with a mug of some drink in front of him. He looks up at her when she clears her throat and grins broadly.

"Welcome back, little sister! I was starting to think you were going to bail on me. Didn't Law teach you that it's rude to be late?"

Kyra brushes his words off as unimportant and walks closer, stopping just outside of his reach. "When can we leave?"

"Leave? But you've just arrived! Pull up a chair, take a load off. You kids are always in such a hurry, _fufufufu__!_"

Two seconds ago he teased her about tardiness and now he's telling her to relax? Kyra's magic stirs in unease. She scans the large bottom floor again, seeing no one but her feather-bedecked host. "I'll pass. You said you could get me on Merrick's ship unnoticed. How soon?"

Doflamingo studies her in silence for a moment, his habitual grin replaced by an assessing look. "How'd you like to join my crew, little sister? You've obviously separated from Law, so I take it you're a free agent now? Screw Trafalgar; I can keep you plenty entertained if you agree to work under me. All you have to do is say yes. Then you can kill and plunder and terrorize to your heart's content. What do you say, Demon Witch? Interested?"

"No," is the immediate and blunt reply. "Law's my captain. I'm still a Heart Pirate. Besides that, there's no way in hell I'm sailing under the command of the asshole who tried to sell me into slavery. How soon can you get me on Merrick's ship?"

Doflamingo stares for a long moment before grinning again and bounding to his feet, apparently not that concerned with her rejection of his offer. "Alright then. Let's get going."

Instead of taking Kyra's proffered hand, the blonde jams his own into the pockets of his brightly colored pants and walks in his odd high-step waddle around her, heading for the stairs to the upper floors. Magic racing just beneath her skin, Kyra follows at a safe distance. He leads her back to the lounge in which they had conducted their private audience, waving her in and closing the door behind her. There is very little light to see by, nothing but a single dim lamp sitting on a table deeper into the room. Kyra edges slowly toward it, wishing to get further away from the dangerous pirate at her back and wondering why he thinks they need to leave for Merrick's sub from here.

A hand reaches out of the darkness and turns off the lamp when Kyra is halfway across the room, freezing her in her tracks and plunging the chamber into pitch blackness.

"Hello, lovey."

If Kyra's heart resided in her chest as it should, it would be plummeting to her shoeless feet at the sound of that voice.

"Good evening, little Kyra."

_**Fuck!**_

Merrick and his monstrous father, here in Doflamingo's brothel. The fucker set her up. He's not even in the room for her to kill; must have slipped out in the last few seconds. Damn him!

Something hits her hard in the chest, knocking her off her feet and driving the air from her lungs. She struggles to get up, throwing her hands out in front of her. One wrist is caught and held while the other is slammed to the floor and pinned. Her magic is screaming for release but nothing is happening, it's not doing anything and it _wants _to, what the fuck -

A wet tongue laps at the skin of her wrist before cool lips brush a kiss over her vein. "Finally," Merrick whispers against her wrist, nibbling lightly on the delicate skin. "Finally, lovey, you're going to be mine."

And then teeth are sinking into her skin and she is screaming. It hurts, oh gods it hurts, what is he doing to her? It's agony, like he's sucking out her bones, please somebody stop him make it stop _make it stop __**make it stop **_-!

_**Little one?**_

_"Help me!"_ she screams out, her thoughts a muddled mess of pleasepleaseplease as Merrick slurps at her wrist and the pain shoots through her like a continuous electric shock. _"Please I need you help me please -!"_

And then Merrick is thrown off her, and the Divine is there, roaring its fury for all to hear.

_**Filthy **__**half-breed! You dare challenge me in such a fashion! I shall feast on your flesh!**_

Kyra huddles in the creature's shadow, weakly cradling her bleeding wrist and sobbing from the pain. It hasn't stopped, hasn't even abated, and still her magic cannot act. It roils within her like an angry snake, ready and willing to strike but chained by something Kyra has no control or knowledge of.

Another voice speaks from towards the door, sounding almost as furious as the Divine. "That is not the bond you assured me you would use! You are hurting your mate, my son! What have you done?"

..._Mate_?

Her body is shaking uncontrollably. The pain inside her is indescribable. Her magic is trapped and useless for protection. She is completely helpless, surrounded by monsters, with no hope for aid and no strength to get up and run.

_**A forced bond? You dare perform something so foul on her? She is not yours to claim, scum! She is mine to protect, **__**another's **__**to love! You shall suffer her pain a hundredfold before I eat your heart!**_

Merrick's voice is indescribably smug. "I don't think so, uncle. In fact, I believe I'm done playing games with you. Let's settle this for good, shall we?"

As he speaks her limbs begin moving without her command. Before she can question, Kyra's power explodes out of her body. She is standing in the dark room, screaming in pain, her magic lashing out. But not at Merrick; at the _Divine,_and even its brother. The pent-up energy engulfs them both with the force of her restrained fury. Their howls seem to make the whole island shake, and for the first time Kyra knows distress for her self-appointed savior. She tries to stop it, to redirect it, and is horrified to find that nothing happens. Her magic will not follow her commands!

Kyra collapses into a heap on the floor, every bone in her body shrieking, head swimming and powers once again locked away inside of her. Her cheek lands in a warm puddle that smells strongly of copper, the sounds of someone struggling for breath torturing her ears.

"W...Why?" a voice rasps somewhere ahead of her, wet and soupy and so shattered she imagines tears on a pale face. "Why would you... betray me? I am... your father... I have made you... more powerful... my son..."

"Yes, thank you for that, Father." Merrick sounds completely bored, as though explaining something to a simpleton. "But you see, all I wanted from you to begin with was a way to bind Kyra to my will. And now that she is completely under my control, you have no further value in my world. "

Kyra's magic is abruptly yanked from her once again, drawing a scream from her lips that is eclipsed by the gurgled cry from Merrick's beautiful parent.

"It's nothing personal, really. I'm just a little old to need a father anymore."

A burst of meat and bone erupting, and then the room is drenched in the nameless entity's gore.

She sobs weakly into the rich carpet, now soaked with the blood of Merrick's slain sire. The Divine has vanished at some point without a sound, whether on its own or with help from the victorious half-breed. She wants to be somewhere, anywhere other than this room.

She wants _Law_...

A cool hand runs soothingly over her hot cheek, gathering the hair away from her face and trailing curious fingers through the curls. Warm breath puffs in her ear as an arm goes under her, dragging her limp body up against Merrick's chest.

"Shh. There, there, lovey. It's over now. No more pain tonight. You'll get used to the bond soon and it won't hurt at all anymore. I'll give you time. We have all the time in the world now. You're mine, now."

"All mine..."

* * *

><p>Law stands upon the deck of his sub, watching with his confident mask firmly in place as the Navy ship sails closer. Someone in that vessel's crow's nest is waving a long piece of white fabric, and Law's men are ranged around the deck behind him, armed but currently ordered to hold their fire. If this is what Law thinks it is, then fighting will be unnecessary and would work against his goals. If not, killing these lying Marine scum will be easy as pie for the Heart Pirates.<p>

When the ship pulls within shouting range, a deep male voice calls out, "I want a word with Trafalgar Law!"

Still grinning, Law steps up to the railing and calls back, "And what business does the World Government have with me that doesn't involve my capture and execution as a pirate, Mr. Marine?"

A feminine voice answers him, causing surprised mutters to issue from his men. "We come under a flag of parlay! Vice-Admiral Smoker is here on official business by order of the World Government!"

'White Hunter' Smoker, eh? Law shifts the nodachi slightly against his shoulder, a subtle message for his men to stay on their guard. The new Vice-Admiral is not a man to be trifled with.

"What do you want?" he inquires, eyes seeking out the grey-haired head of the man he is addressing. "I'm not in the habit of entertaining Marines for longer than it takes to cut them into pieces."

"We're not here to fight you, pirate," Smoker retorts around what look to be three burning cigars, all clamped between his teeth at the same time. "I've been tasked to relay the announcement that you've been elevated to the rank of Shichibukai. Your bounty is hereby suspended. You work for the good of the people now, Law."

Shichibukai. Law's grin morphs into a smile to make blood run cold.

Excellent.

"That's wonderful news. Thank you for telling me, Mr. Smoker," Law calls out cheerfully, turning his back on the Marine ship and letting his men see his expression. "If that's all, we will be taking our leave."

"Trafalgar!" Smoker shouts back at once, causing Law to halt momentarily on his way to the hatch. "Are you really just hearing this from me now? Why didn't the Demon Witch already tell you?"

Every muscle in Law's body tenses in shock, the manic grin dropping from his face as his eyes grow wide.

_**What?**_

"Room."

The Marines under Vice-Admiral Smoker give cries of alarm when a giant blue dome appears over them, linking their ship with the Heart Pirates' submarine. Louder exclamations are given seconds later when the Dark Doctor himself appears on their deck in exactly the same place the pretty Captain Tashigi stood moments ago. A girly scream from the submarine quickly reveals the woman's current location, much to the distress of the burly Marines.

Law ignores them all, unsheathed nodachi leveled at Vice-Admiral Smoker's neck and a terrible look twisting his handsome features.

"Where did you see my magician?" he demands quietly, his voice promising ample amounts of agony should his question not be answered in a timely fashion.

Smoker glares at him for a moment before deigning to respond. "We've been looking for you for several weeks now. The Shichibukai Doflamingo is known to have ties with your crew. We went to his current haunt on Bagnio Island to try to acquire a guess as to your whereabouts. While he was busy playing with us, the woman known as Demon Witch Kyra appeared in the company of Phoenix Marco asking for a private audience."

He uses a jitte clutched in his hand to knock the tip of Law's sword away, managing to poke the surgeon with the end of it as he does so. The searing pain and accompanying weakness tells Law that there is sea-stone in the weapon; he backs off slightly, wary of this man and his abilities.

But a large part of his mind is paying no attention to the danger Smoker poses, too busy processing what he's just learned about his magician's whereabouts. She is alive, at least. In the company of Phoenix Marco, formerly of the Whitebeard Pirates. Straw Hat's brother had also been a member of that famous group; if the Divine did indeed dump Kyra with Straw Hat, it is not so farfetched to think that Marco and the rest of the late Edward Newgate's adopted brats would not be far off. She demanded a private audience with his old captain, something that has the beginnings of rage stirring in Law's gut. Kyra is not a stupid person; she knows how much Law hates that fucker. The thought of her alone with Donquixote Doflamingo makes him want to butcher something - preferably the Don.

If Vergo puts a single hand on Law's magician - if he so much as bruises her - Law will cut the man into a thousand tiny pieces and feed his body to Bepo.

"What did she ask for?" he demands now from Smoker, flexing his free hand in preparation for a different kind of attack.

"I said she wanted to talk to him in private, didn't I?" Now the White Hunter sounds annoyed, as though Trafalgar is wasting his time.

He's wasting his own damn time. She's close, only a few days away from here. He has to try. In seconds Law has swapped places with the female officer again, back on his own deck and striding fast towards the hatch. His men scramble to follow, the continued shouting of the Marines summarily ignored.

"Gable, set a course to Bagnio. I want this submarine going as fast as possible, I don't care about fuel. Get us going."

"Aye, Captain!" Gable breaks off from the others and bolts towards the control room. No doubt he will squeeze every last drop of speed from the ship to please his captain.

"Did anyone aside from Mr. Neil keep a Den-Den to contact Doflamingo's crew? Do not lie to me, men: if you have the snail, give it to me now."

No one says a word. Law has already assured himself of the loyalty of every one of these men, so he doesn't waste any more time pressing them. "Very well. We'll just have to wait then. Prepare yourselves - we're getting our magician back, through force if necessary. A little tussle will be quite enjoyable, wouldn't you agree?"

He leaves his cheering crew to their preparations and heads to his room, needing to be alone for a moment. She's so close - so damn close. A few days away, and his sub can move much faster than some Navy hunk of lumber. No time at all and Law's magician would be in his grasp once again, Doflamingo's interference be damned.

The sight of the worn, patched piece-of-shit satchel sitting innocently on his bed stops the Dark Doctor cold. It had not been present when he left the room half an hour ago. It does not belong to Law - but he knows exactly who has placed it here.

_Kyra_.

He doesn't move for several long moments, already knowing that she is not here. If she had set foot back on this submarine Law knows without any doubt that she would have immediately come straight to him. She's not here - so why is her satchel on his bed?

Approaching the bag with all the wariness of someone dealing with a wild animal set to rip his throat out, Law advances upon his bed and takes a seat on the very edge of the mattress. His hand does not quiver as it slowly reaches for Kyra's belongings, gripping the canvas fabric and pulling it into his lap. His fingers are steady as he loosens the drawstring and opens the top of the bag, revealing several folded pieces of paper wrapped up in the chain of Kyra's precious necklace. The gold half-heart pings gently against the silver ring as Law carefully untangles the bauble from the folded parchment. Setting the necklace aside for now, the Surgeon of Death turns his attention to the letter clutched in his hands.

The first paragraph is crossed out. Law must squint to read the words.

_What am I doing? I don't have a clue, and you're not here to ask. How do you write a goodbye letter? I'm not putting 'Dear Law' up top you asshole, I'm still pissed at you for using that monster to send me away. Wait, this is stupid. I'm trying to say goodbye and I'm bitching at you. How the fuck_

_Sorry. I've never written anybody a letter before. I've never wanted to, but I'm about to go do something extremely risky that might end up getting me killed or worse, and I wanted to say goodbye to you before that happened. You didn't really give me the chance after the love confession before I ended up on Straw Hat's ship last month. Smooth, Law; don't think I'm not still pissed at you for that. I told you not to trust the Divine. I wish you'd listen to me sometimes - occasionally I do know what I'm talking about._

_I met Doflamingo. I can see why you hate him so much - the guy's a dick. You know he still likes you though, right? Anyway, I'm threatening him into doing me a favor that's going to piss you off to astronomical levels. Don't run off half-cocked to kill Doflamingo. You're strong and everything, but I'm pretty sure he'd slaughter you. And fuck you and that glare you want to give me. If I have to be relocated because you decided something without my input, then you can just deal with taking a fucking order for once._

_I'm going after my heart on my own._

A cold band of dread wraps itself tight around Law's chest. He stares at the paper, hands shaking in earnest now - whether from fury or terror is unclear.

_I don't know if I can get it back. Merrick will be keeping it close, and I'm sure his father won't be far either. But I can't let you keep going with whatever insane plan you've cooked up. You're going to get yourself and everybody else on the crew killed on a suicide mission. I know you won't want to read this, but you CAN'T beat Blackbeard. You rely too heavily on your Devil Fruit powers, which would be useless against him. If you'd let me go with you, we could kill __Teach __together. So since I can't do this the way you'd like, and I refuse to let you get yourself killed, I'm doing things my way._

_I don't care if you like it. I don't care how pissed you are. I don't give a fuck if you want to kill me right now with a butter knife and a couple of dinner napkins. __I will not be the death of somebody I love ever again._

_There's my confession for you, Trafalgar Law._

_I love you._

_Stay safe. __Goodbye._

Stupid little _**bitch.**_ She thinks she has a chance against Merrick? How many times has she tried and failed to kill the man? She really believes she has any better chance against Rafe Merrick and his immortal father than Law does against the Yonkou Blackbeard?

Fucking _**imbecile**_.

He finds himself standing in his room, the chamber a wrecked shambles around him. Book pages and women's clothing and pieces of his desk chair are scattered about the floor. The knuckles on both hands are busted, dripping blood into the mess. His right hand is clenched into a tight fist around the pages of his magician's letter while his left is clutching her necklace so hard it has cut into his palm.

_I love you._

_**Fuck**_ her love. Kyra's love is immaterial if she is dead. To hell with her fucking love; he'd rather she hate his guts if it means she can live to return to his side.

_Stay safe._

How _dare _the bitch give him orders. Don't kill Doflamingo, don't die, stay safe - command after command from his magician. _**Law **_is the captain. _**Law **_has the power to give orders. Law does not bow to _anyone's _demands, _**ever**_.

_Goodbye._

_**NO!**_

The incensed pirate flings open the door to his trashed room and strides off down the hall. He will tell Gable to push the engines to the max. He doesn't care that in all likelihood he has already missed the chance to stop his magician from throwing herself into danger. Doflamingo is going to tell him exactly where to find Kyra or his guts will decorate the railing of Law's submarine for however long it takes them to rot. If Vergo tries to interfere, all the better.

And when Kyra is back in his possession, Law is going to beat her to within an inch of her fucking life. She will never order him again. She will never doubt his strength. She will never sacrifice her freedom or throw her life away for him as she is bent on doing now. Law will remind her of the fact that she belongs to _him_ and _**him alone**_, and as such her life is not her own to throw away.

_Stupid_, _**stupid fucking woman!**_

"Why haven't you stopped her?" Law abruptly yells out, suddenly remembering the Divine that claims to love her so much. "If she goes to Merrick he'll enslave her or kill her! Stop her, you damned fool! Bring her to me!"

He ignores the shocked reaction of his men surrounding him in the galley that he doesn't recall entering. He pauses for the barest heartbeat to wait, hoping against all reason that his magician will suddenly be deposited before him by the bastard who separated them in the first place. When nothing happens, Law continues on his way to the control room, fury burning hot in his gut.

He throws the door open, sending it bouncing off the wall with a bang that has Gable jumping a foot in the air from fright. A relay Den-Den falls from his hand, Penguin's annoyed voice sounding from it as the man bitches.

"- can't pull speed out of my ass, here, Gable! The engines are already operating beyond the max potential! If we push them any harder they're going to burn out and we'll be dead in the water! You wanna be the unlucky bastard that explains to Captain why we can't move? 'Cause I don't fancy getting gutted, you got it?"

"Captain!" Gable blurts out, swiping his cap from his head as he gathers fistfuls of his own hair in his hands. "Captain, I'm sorry, we're already cutting through the water faster than usual, but Penguin says if they screw with the engines any more we'll cripple the sub! There's nothing we can - _**HOLY FUCKING SHIT! CAPTAIN BEHIND YOU LOOK OUT!"**_

Law immediately yanks a scalpel from one pocket and pivots around to face the threat, ready to kill whatever it is with somewhat more viciousness than usual.

What he sees is enough to send his heart plummeting to his stomach and kills any hope that the Divine might return Kyra to him posthaste.

The Divine isn't going to be helping anybody with a single damn thing for a while, because the Divine is crouched on the floor in the control room of Law's submarine, copious amounts of its blood pouring from large chunks that have been gouged out of its skin. Its animal form is covered in the crimson liquid, most of it looking to be expelling from the creature's many horrendous injuries.

One onyx wing hangs crooked as though broken; it is favoring one leg that is spewing increasingly smaller spurts of blood as Law watches, and there are noticeable tears trickling from its eyes. The voice that sears into Law's brain is thick with sorrow and fury.

_**My brother is dead. The abomination has slain him and taken possession of the little one.**_

And the Divine proceeds to throw back its head and howl.

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><p>AN: Please review.


	35. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>Trafalgar Law is scowling fiercely, mopping blood off the side of his face from a gash in his hairline and wishing very much to kill something. His infirmary is deserted save for a comatose Bepo, his men making tracks for other parts of the ship as soon as he'd given Gable the order to get them off this island. He wants as much space as possible between himself and Doflamingo.<p>

Fucking bastard sold out his magician, and thanks to Vergo's interference Law didn't even get the chance to maim the damn Don like he deserves.

_Fufufufufu! Why the long face, Trafalgar? You should be thanking me! Haven't I done you a favor, after all?_

Law yanks a packet of alcoholic wipes from a drawer and tears the packaging open with his teeth, snarling in fury.

_What? You mean the pretty witch __**didn't **__leave you? I thought she'd broken my dear little brother's heart! What better punishment could there be for that than to hand the bitch over to someone who wants to break her? Fufufufu, my bad!_

The cool cloth burns like acid against the deep cut, which will probably require at least butterfly stitches to close. If Kyra were here such measures would not be necessary, but thanks to his stupid magician's foray into heroics and Doflamingo's double-crossing nature, for now Law must make do with normal medical remedies to his physical ailments.

_Beats me. Why would I have cared where the Rear Admiral and his new prisoner are going? Aside from the cleaning bill I need to send him; son of a bitch left a hell of a mess in my office before strutting out of here the other day._

Three days. Kyra has been in Merrick's possession for three fucking days already, with many more to come while Law struggles to find them out in the vast New World. Doflamingo had been no help, and lashing out at him had gotten Vergo dragged into the discussion - which resulted in Law's injury and Bepo getting knocked out when the bear had tried to protect his captain. If not for Doflamingo's show of mercy, the animal would be dead.

_Hey, hey, no need to be so harsh, Vergo baby! Law's just distraught! Can't you see the boy's in love? No need to kill him for that, fufufufufu! Look, Trafalgar, I don't know where your little sweetheart is now. I don't know what_ _Merrick was planning to do with her. I do know the girl's got a set of lungs on her - I could hear her screaming like I was still in the room with her, fufufufu! So instead of trying to hit me and getting your ass beat down, why don't you take your little playmates and just go look for her? I've got a black market to run! Bye, now!_

Law absolutely **_hates_** that fucking flamingo.

Once his head is fixed up and he has assured himself that Bepo will wake on his own, Law retreats to his room and locks the door behind him. His fur hat is soon swiped from his head and deposited on the floor, while the surgeon huddles on his bed with head in hands, trying to think of his next course of action. What is he going to do? How does he track down his magician now? Would Merrick take her somewhere, an island rather than keeping her on a ship so that they are constantly moving? When he does find them, how is Law going to get Kyra away from Merrick? If the scientist has control of her powers, if Kyra is bonded to Merrick now, what hope does Law have of pulling that connection asunder?

Questions; too many unanswerable questions, and only one source of possible information. If the Divine hasn't bled to death from its injuries.

"Do not compare me to some weak human such as yourself, mortal. I will live to see that half-breed's innards ripped from his body."

Wonderful. Now Law gets the pleasure of dealing with an irate immortal who hates his guts. What a splendid week he's having so far.

Raising his head and letting his hands drop to dangle between his knees, the Dark Doctor gives his visitor a once-over. Whereas the Divine had been rather the worse for wear when last it popped into Law's submarine, today it looks just as flawlessly beautiful as ever; wings immaculate, human facade perfect - not even a single visible scar to serve as a reminder of its ordeal. What a disappointment; a blemish or two on that flawless skin might have lifted Law's mood a little.

"Where is she?" He needs that answered right now. It is this creature's fault that he and Kyra are separated to begin with. The least it can do now is tell him where his magician is currently being held.

The Divine shoots him a look of intense loathing. "Watch your tone, mortal. Do not forget that I am capable of causing great harm to someone as flimsy as you."

Law clenches his hands into fists, lets the feel of his nails cutting into his own palms ground his fury. Calm, he must stay calm. He will be no good to his magician if he pisses the Divine off. When this is over, when Kyra is by his side once again, she will help him ensure that this fucking monster pays for its part in the girl's suffering. For now he needs its cooperation.

When he speaks again, the newest Shichibukai's voice is even and level. There is no hint to the inferno of rage that roars within his heart; no clue to the thousands of horrible things he would so love to do to his guest. "Where is she?"

"I do not know. Due to the nature of the bond she now shares with the abomination, I will not be able to find her until I can pinpoint the wavelength of her dreams. Doing so is proving... difficult. I fear the half-breed is aware of my methods; if so, it is not far-fetched to think that it is keeping the little one from falling into a deep enough sleep to dream."

Law scowls darkly at this less than pleasing news. If the Divine cannot find Kyra for him, he will have to resort to his own talents in tracking. He focuses on this, rather than contemplate the means through which Merrick is keeping his magician from sleeping. Dwelling on her pain will not help anyone.

"What do you suggest we do then, Mr. Divine?" It disgusts him to resort to asking for the immortal's help, but the Dark Doctor is well aware of what he is up against. For now he must put his pride on a back burner to stew. He has a feeling he will be asking many favors of various people before this ordeal is ended - be it by Kyra's death, his own, or Merrick's.

"I must first become more familiar with the way in which the world is operated in this age. Do not forget, human: I have slept in the earth for a millenia. You will provide me with the knowledge I require."

Law's displeasure spikes further, both at the obvious command and because relating all of his considerable knowledge to the clueless being will likely be an undertaking of years. Before he can point out this flaw, a nauseating stab of agony tears through his skull.

His vision goes black before he falls convulsing on the floor. Ears ringing; eyes ground shut; excruciating agony worse than any physical torment ever visited upon him. That is all he knows. The only clear thought left in his screaming head outside this anguish is wondering whether it will continue until he dies from it.

Abruptly as it began, the pain vanishes. The pirate finds himself sprawled on the floor of his room, the taste of blood heavy in his mouth while something wet and warm trickles steadily from his ears, eyes, and nose. Bare feet the color of cocoa are inches from his face; they shift slightly as the Divine crouches before him, perfect hands hanging betwixt its thighs for a moment before they move to Law's shoulders and grip hard. Law is jerked up and pushed back until his spine connects with the frame of his bed, his limbs useless after the onslaught of agony moments ago.

"Do not faint, weakling. We do not have the time for your dramatics. I now possess the knowledge I need. You must go to your new masters, use the things they can tell you about the half-breed against him. They are his masters as well, are they not? They will know where to find him. You have the power to ask, due to your recent placing in the world. Use that power to find my little one."

"Bastard," Law spits, furious at this attack on his person by a supposed ally. The Divine releases him and stands. The surgeon swipes at the trails of wetness on his face, angered to see blood on his hand. He feels as though the heat of his rage will melt him, even as a strange sensation of shame crawls up his spine. The monster has just invaded his mind. The one sanctuary available to him, the one place his enemies cannot access, the single weapon his foes can never take from him. And now its security has been shattered as surely as a glass flung into a wall. The experience leaves Law feeling dirty and violated.

_I've never felt so... so... __**violated **__in my entire life! I feel like that fucking thing raped me or something! Do you have any idea what it's like for another entity to invade your consciousness and use your body for its own purposes?_

He had not understood quite what Kyra meant those months ago. Now he does.

Perfectly.

Law climbs laboriously to his feet, gripping the bedding for a moment as his balance resettles. The nausea flares again before fading; aside from a truly terrible migraine that has him squinting sensitive eyes and a deep-seated ache in his limbs, the captain feels as he usually does. Hopefully the side effects of the Divine's dive through Law's mind will soon be gone completely.

"Never do that again, you piece of filth," the Surgeon of Death commands in his most quiet, terrible voice.

The creature is maddeningly unaffected. "I will continue to search for the half-breed and the little one. Make haste to your masters, human. We must find her."

It is gone with a flurry of feathers, leaving Law to scowl at the repeated command as he marches into his bathroom. Flipping on the cold water, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror over his sink and stops to take a closer look. Blood is smeared across his cheeks where he wiped at it, more of the liquid dripping down from his nose over his mouth and chin. He looks much the same as Kyra did when she returned to him after freeing her storybook monster, minus the copious amounts of other people's blood splashed over her body. What had that thing torn from _her _mind?

He is just wiping off the last of the blood with a wet rag when pounding on his bedroom door jars his still-present headache.

"Captain! There's a ship on approach! You're gonna wanna see this one, Captain! It's the Red Force!"

Red-Haired Shanks? What could the Yonkou possibly want with Law's crew? The Shichibukai tosses the rag aside and exits the bathroom, snapping up his sheathed nodachi before flinging open the door to his room and slipping past an irate Haru. The mechanic jogs along beside him, fairly radiating tension as they cut a speedy path upwards to the deckof his sub floating on the ocean's surface. The rest of the crew is waiting there, minus Bepo still unconscious in the infirmary and Gable occupied at the controls. They are armed, prepared to do battle at Law's first signal, but the palpable taste of fear on his tongue tells him that they are all very much hoping that such a signal never comes.

Calculating grey eyes scan the deck of the approaching ship, snagging on a blur of white fluttering wildly in the air at the bow. A white flag of treaty, waved madly about by a hugely fat individual tearing a chunk out of some sort of meat clutched in his free hand. Next to him stands a figure of average height for a male, cloaked in a garment of pure black that flutters in the wind. A person could easily overlook this man as insignificant - if not for the vibrant color of his hair, from which both his nickname and the name of his crew is derived.

It would appear that the Yonkou Red-Haired Shanks really has come for a visit.

_**"OOOOOOOI! HEY OVER THERE! ARE YOU THE HEART PIRATES?! WE HEARD THEY TRAVELED IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE, BUT WE AREN'T SURE THAT'S NOT JUST A JOKE! WHAT KIND OF PIRATE MAKES HIS VESSEL YELLOW, YOU KNOW?"**_

Law has a feeling that the headache pulsing behind his eyes is only going to get worse from here on out.

In short order it is established that _yes, they are the Heart Pirates you fucking idiot._ The Red Force drops anchor on their starboard side, and Shanks comes alone onto the deck of Law's sub. Almost immediately, the weaker members of the Heart Pirates begin dropping like flies, out cold with no visible explanation. Jambarl gives a threatening growl from Law's back. His captain silences him with a look and a shake of the head, already aware that the Yonkou coming towards him is possessed of the Conqueror's Haki. No one with a slight willpower has any chance of staying conscience around the man when he turns his ability loose.

The famous pirate comes to a stop just out of arm's reach, scratching the back of his head in obvious embarrassment even as he gives a good-natured laugh. "Hey, sorry about your guys. I have that effect on people sometimes."

"What business does a Yonkou have with me?" Law inquires in a monotone, brushing aside the apology as unimportant. His men are simply unconscious. They will be fine, probably as soon as Red-Haired gets off of Law's ship again. The reason behind the older scalawag's presence on said ship is the topic that needs to be examined.

Shanks gives him a wide-eyed stare for a moment, as though shocked by his question, and then proceeds to throw back his head and laugh loudly.

"_Dahahahaha!_ You mean - you mean she didn't tell you?! Oh, man! That must have driven you completely nuts! I know if somebody on my crew spontaneously disappeared into thin air like she does and didn't come back for days, I would pull my hair out! I can't believe she never told you about meeting me! That's just hilarious, _dahahahaha!_"

"I am aware that my magician met and healed you nearly two years ago," Law grits out between tightly clenched teeth, annoyed that the man would mock him in such a manner. "That is not the issue at hand. What I want you to tell me is why exactly you have tracked us down. What do you want, Mr. Shanks?"

Shanks blinks foolishly, head cocking slightly to the side in question. "Track you down? No, it's not like that! We were just in the area, you know, enjoying our booze and doing our thing, when my sharpshooter Yassop spotted your ship in the distance. I remembered reading somewhere that a friend of mine is a member of your crew. I just wanted to pop in and say hi, see how she's doing and all that. Haven't seen her in the papers lately, and knowing her, that seems like it'd be a sign of problems. Is she doing okay?"

Shanks looks around, his eyes scanning the comatose men sprawled around the deck and the still standing crew behind Law. A wrinkle appears on his forehead as he furrows his brow in confusion. "Hey, where's Kyra? She inside or something?"

The cold hand that has been wrapped around Law's heart for the past handful of days squeezes a little tighter. Part of him is clawing to be free, to rage and howl and vent his loss to the world like an animal mourning a mate. The logical part holds that feral urge in check. Kyra is not dead. She is not lost to him forever yet. He _will _get her back, even if he must follow her into Hell and drag her kicking and screaming to his side once again.

"Kyra has been separated from us. She is being held prisoner by the Rear-Admiral Rafe Merrick." The words burn his tongue; admitting her situation out loud is abhorrent to Law, in that it makes it more real.

His guest stares at him blankly for about five seconds before his hands are fisted in his hair and he is talking very fast in a high, panicked voice.

"She's been captured?! But how'd the Navy get a hold of Kyra?! She beat the shit out of them at Marineford, she should have been fine! Who the hell is Rafe Merrick? Oh, oh, wait! I can find out! _**HEY, BENNY! START RAIDING**_ _**ALL THOSE FILES OF YOURS AND TELL ME ANYTHING YOU CAN FIND ON RAFE MERRICK! HE'S A**_ - hang on, what rank did you say he was? Oh, right, I know! -_** A REAR-ADMIRAL! HOP TO, BEN! THE BASTARD KIDNAPPED THE GIRL!"**_

Shanks turns his attention back to Law as though he has not just screamed very loudly right next to the surgeon's ear.

"What's a Rear-Admiral want with Kyra, anyway? I read in the papers that she's supposed to be handed over to the Admirals to take care of if she's ever caught, but -"

"Rafe Merrick is not an ordinary man," Law cuts in harshly, holding onto his nodachi so tight that his hand is starting to cramp. "I don't have time for this. If all you wanted was to talk to my magician, there is nothing I can do for you. Remove yourself from my ship. We have a search to continue."

"We can help!" Shanks offers immediately, as though it's the most natural thing in the world for a powerful pirate such as himself to give aid to lesser men like Law. "Do you know where he took her? I can call in a few favors and find out for you. I mean, seriously, it's not like we can really do anything else until we know where Merrick's going, right? I'm pretty sure he won't bother with Impel Down if he knows anything about our girl. She'd make mincemeat of that place, don't you think? Are you guys hungry? We should get something to eat while we figure out what direction to take next. _**OI, LUCKY! GET TO COOKING, AND MAKE SURE YOU LEAVE SOME FOOD FOR THE REST OF US! GUYS, LAW AND HIS CREW ARE GOING TO BE TRAVELING WITH US FOR A WHILE! LET'S GIVE 'EM A REAL WELCOME, ALRIGHT?"**_

Through the renewed ringing in his ears as a result of once again having the Yonkou screech much too close, Law can vaguely hear the cheering from the rival pirate crew at the idea of a party. His own men say nothing, waiting for his signal as to how they should act. He gives a single nod, enough to let them know that for now they will go along with Shanks' idea. Though it irks him to have to accept help from anyone, finding Kyra as quickly as possible is more important than his pride.

A weathered hand clamps down genially onto the surgeon's shoulder - he wonders for a moment if it is the limb regrown by his magician. The serious, focused look on Shanks' face throws such ponderings out of his mind, setting the hairs on the nape of his neck to rise. In this look is all of the power one might expect from a Yonkou, all of the danger in a pirate feared and revered around the world. To have such an expression directed at his person is disquieting.

"You and me need to have a serious talk, Law. I want to know what happened to put the girl in a Rear-Admiral's hands."

"That promises to be quite the long story, Mr. Shanks," the Shichibukai replies, resisting the urge to shrug away the grip on his shoulder.

Kyra's past; her joining with his crew; her time as a captive on her own home island; freeing the Divine; their last fight with Merrick; his foolish decision to send her away...

Yes, this is going to be a _long _story indeed.

* * *

><p>Kyra wants sleep.<p>

No, 'wants' isn't right. That isn't a strong enough word for how the sorceress feels right now.

She _craves _sleep. Needs the safety of oblivion with every fiber of her being.

She huddles in her cell, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering with the terrible cold that has gripped her so tightly. This tiny closet of a room reminds her of the meat locker back on Law's sub. Her captain keeps the locker below freezing to preserve the organs Kyra has a habit of punching from their enemies chests; long periods in that room have always left her with a case of the shivers.

_Such a silly reaction from my cold-hearted magician._

_I don't have a heart, idiot. You're to blame for that._

Warm fingers on her icy flesh, kneading heat back into her limbs. A hot mouth against her throat.

_Yes, I have your heart now, Kyra. A much more beautiful specimen than the others you have given into my keeping._

_You are one creepy bastard, Law._

Kyra shakes her head to dispel the memory, unwilling to dwell on thoughts of happier times. To do so will plunge her further into despair. Despair opens the door to depression, and from there it is only a short fall to insanity. She must not allow that to happen. It is vital that she attempt to keep her wits about her as much as possible.

She is unsure how long she has been here. One moment she was passing out in Merrick's arms. When next she became aware, it was to the four walls of this room. She had immediately tried to teleport away, anywhere else but here, but had been rewarded with the same horrible sense of agony as she had experienced when forced to kill Merrick's father. Her magic is not responding, though the occasional whisper of the voice in her head tells her that it would free her in an instant were it able.

The wrist where Merrick took a bite out of her is red and swollen, the skin angry and easily irritated. Her arm is reacting as though she has contracted blood poisoning; lines of black are slowly crawling out from the wound to the healthy flesh. It pulses in time to her heartbeat, a constant painful reminder of the hell that is now Kyra's life.

He has provided her with a bucket of water from which to drink, a small supply of some sort of jerky, and another bucket in which to take care of her bodily functions. The room is ventilated, which reduces the smell of waste and unwashed person, but the stench and the cold make it difficult to breathe.

Kyra has not slept at all in the time that she has been trapped in this chamber. Every time she has tried, every single time she has closed her eyes and attempted to shut off her mind, Merrick has used his forced bond to shock her back to wakefulness.

_Can't have that, lovey. Those precious dreams of yours would draw unwanted attention. Give me a little time, and then you may sleep as much as you like. Just not right now._

Fucker.

The magician lifts weary eyes to the door as the lock jangles and the portal slowly swings open, allowing her captor to lean comfortably against the doorframe. He is dressed casually in jeans and a loose button-up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows and his arms crossed over his chest. Over those bare forearms is draped a thick blanket.

Kyra looks at him long enough to ascertain his wardrobe, gives a halfhearted attempt to rip his head off with her powers, and drops her eyes back to the floor when the pain sets her nerve-endings on fire.

Merrick clucks his tongue at her in a disappointed manner.

"Why the long face, darling?" he croons, coming into the room and crouching in front of her. "Don't tell me my company is really _that _abhorrent to you."

The warm blanket is carefully draped over her shoulders, Merrick's spicy cologne overpowering the stench of the waste bucket in the opposite corner. His cold fingers brush gently against Kyra's cheeks, smoothing back a few strands of her hair. Bile surges up Kyra's throat at the contact. She flinches back from him as though burned.

"We're almost home now, lovey," he tells her, speaking as though her disgust is not plain on her face. "Once we get there, we'll take a few weeks vacation to accustom ourselves to our new bond. I'd like to know more about your powers, and I'm sure you're interested in my story, aren't you? I'll tell you about my late father, how we met a few months ago, what kind of gifts I received from him. Once we become a little closer, maybe you can try your hand with some of those powers. You _can _use my abilities if I allow it, after all. What we have isn't all that different from your old bond with your little captain. It's just slightly less pleasant if you have a moment of weakness and try to kill me. Well, that, and I control whether or not you are able to use your _own _gifts. No playtime for you without my permission, lovey, and naughty little girls are not allowed playtime."

Kyra wants so badly to kill him; to bathe in his blood, to fill her ears with the sounds of his screams. It is worse than death for her to be bound to her tormentor, her mother's killer.

"I thought perhaps you would like to relocate to a more comfortable room until we get home, Kyra. Does that sound good? We can visit for a while, start getting to know each other. We're bonded until one of us dies, after all; we might as well be friends. I can be good to you, if you let me," Merrick muses, idly reaching out to stroke an icy finger over the skin of her bare arm.

The mere thought of a friendship with this monster - the very idea that she is to be trapped with him for the rest of her natural life - is too much for Kyra to handle. She barely has time to turn her head before she vomits, sick splattering upon the floor at her side as she retches again and again. Even when her stomach is empty the girl heaves, her very body violently protesting the hell of her reality.

Merrick coos gently in her ear, his arms going around her in a sickening embrace before he hefts her up and stands, ignoring the weak fight she puts up with her half-frozen limbs. Cradling her to his chest like a beloved bride even as she strikes at him with her fists, the Rear-Admiral carries her from her cell and through the halls of his ship until they come upon a well-lit chamber in which there is a steaming tub of water and several women in maid attire sporting the unmistakable rings of exploding collars around their necks. The women sweep deep curtsies as Merrick carefully sets Kyra in a well-stuffed armchair to the right of the tub, not seeming terribly concerned when she immediately goes over the side of the chair and books it to the farthest corner of the room, the blanket tossed aside in her haste to get away from the madman.

"These women have been assigned to you, lovey," he informs her, waving a negligent hand at the servants by the tub. "Just some slaves I picked up here and there. They are very obedient, I assure you. Should you have any problem with them, just let me know and the issue will be corrected."

He makes a sweeping gesture to indicate the rest of the room, smiling broadly over at Kyra's huddled form. "This will be your room until we get home. That door there - " - he points to a door on the far wall - "- leads to your lavatory. That one -" - another door to Kyra's right - "- is a connection to my own chamber. It's locked, I'm afraid, but should you need me just knock on it. I'll have to ask that you stay in your room at all times, lovey. You understand, what with all the sailors required to run a ship, and you can't be too sure of people these days. I would hate if anything happened to you, my dear. I'll bring you your meals and visit as often as possible. For now, I'm afraid there are a few things that require my attention. Why don't you have a nice hot bath and then get some sleep? It's safe to do so now, lovey; I'm not worried about my darling uncle coming for an unexpected visit. Say hello for me, won't you? Goodnight, Kyra."

Kyra stares after him for a long time after the door shuts and locks on his retreating figure before the sound of a throat clearing brings her flinching back to her senses. One of the slaves has stepped forward, nervously wringing her hands and keeping her eyes fixed on Kyra's feet.

"Master has commanded that we make sure you bathe, Mistress," she whispers fearfully, cringing immediately after as though expecting Kyra to leap up and rip her throat out. The mage is too exhausted and heartsick to be offended. She makes no move to get up, just shifts so that she is sitting rather than crouching and leans her head back into the cradle of the corner. Her eyes drift shut, telltale lines of moisture creeping out from under her eyelids to quickly dampen her cheeks.

"Will you kill me if I ask you to?" she whispers hoarsely after a moment, eyes still closed. She doesn't open them until a gentle hand carefully brushes against her face, wiping at the tears almost tenderly. Kyra peeks beneath lowered lashes at the gorgeous blonde kneeling at her side, cradling her face in one hand while the other moves to clutch her wrist.

"I can't, even if I wanted to," the woman tells her, laughing without a hint of true humor. "You don't get to take the easy way out while we stay with him and suffer for it. Now get in the damn bathtub, you _sordes _vermin."

The word has Kyra's eyes snapping fully open in an instant, one hand wrapped threateningly around the woman's throat while Kyra scans every inch of the blonde's face. Her prisoner does not panic or try to get away, merely rolls her eyes and sneers at the amazed mage.

"It's me, you imbecile," Lihla snaps, yanking on Kyra's wrist with enough force to pry the weakened woman's hand from her throat. "Must I drag you to that tub? I have no intention of dying because of you, _sordes_. You've already cost Father his life, I'll not have you getting me killed, too. So you're going in. _Strip."_

Kyra tugs listlessly on her captive wrist, ignoring Lihla's command. "Why are you here? I thought you were dead."

"We can have storytime later, you stupid animal! Get up this instant! I will not be punished because of you! Don't think I won't drag you to the bath by your hair if I must!" True to her word, Lihla proceeds to reach out with her free hand and grab a hank of Kyra's dirty hair, exerting painful pressure that draws a hiss from the Demon Witch's mouth. In an instant she has broken Lihla's hold on her and once more has a hand around the blonde's throat over the explosive collar, snarling in her childhood nemesis' face.

"Don't touch me, you _bitch,"_ she growls, anger and humiliation giving her strength. "Don't you dare touch me. I don't need my powers to kill you, and I'd love to break your fucking neck with my bare hands. You stay the fuck away from me, Lihla."

Kyra shoves the other woman away, sagging back against the wall for a moment before laboriously pushing herself to her feet. Weary blue eyes stray to the steaming bath and the three other maids standing attentively nearby, their eyes all glued to the floor.

"Don't touch me," she repeats in a whisper, repelled by the idea of anyone's hands grazing her skin. "Get out. Leave me alone."

All of the slaves but Lihla immediately bob quick curtsies before making tracks out the door, the last one closing it gently behind her. Lihla has by this time gained her own footing and marched over to the armchair into which Merrick had deposited Kyra minutes ago, throwing herself into it and covering her face with her hands.

"This is all your fault," she mutters through her fingers, voice heavy with malice. "Father had great plans for you. If you'd only accepted your place back home, none of this would have happened. Father would be... he'd be alive. I wouldn't be here with that monster. Everything would be as it should. But you just had to ruin everything, didn't you _sordes?_ You should have just died when you ran away all those years ago. I wish you had just _died."_

"Oh, shut up already," Kyra snaps in irritation, taking wobbly steps towards the tub and tugging her clothes off as she goes. "What happened after I got away from you at that stupid bonding ceremony? Last time I was on Veneficus, your house was a wreck. Merrick get pissed off that your father's brilliant plan failed?"

"Father's dead. I told you." Lihla's voice is flat, purposely without inflection. A glance as Kyra climbs into the tub shows the elitist's face is held carefully expressionless.

"Merrick killed him?" Kyra does not take the time to soak; grabbing up the bar of soap on the rim of the bath, she scrubs harshly at her skin, wishing to remove all taint of her captor from her body.

"Yes."

Kyra says nothing more after that, washing in silence as Lihla lounges morosely in the chair. She does not feel pity for the other woman, or any type of sorrow at the news of the shaman's death. The old fucker had made Kyra's childhood a living hell, given her mother to Merrick, and tortured her for three full months trying to tie her to the half-breed bastard. Her only regret is that she did not kill him herself.

It is not until she removes herself from the cooling water and snatches up a waiting towel that Lihla speaks again.

"What's that hideous mark on your chest? And that blemish on your neck?"

A lump situates itself midway down Kyra's throat, bringing the threat of tears to her eyes and making speech impossible. She wants to spit and curse at Lihla for calling Law's jolly roger a hideous blemish, but refuses to give the bitch the satisfaction of seeing her cry again today. Kyra feels so out of control without her powers to ground her, with only the occasional faint whisper in her mind to let her know they are not completely gone. She can't think straight, she can't keep a handle on her emotions, she can't fucking do anything.

She needs to sleep.

Her clothing is blood-caked and filthy. There is a white silk nightgown laid out on the large bed for her, but Kyra refuses to accept a gift from Merrick. She doesn't wear dresses. She slips her ruined clothing back on and settles atop the covers, snatching a pillow and hugging it hard to her chest.

Lihla remains curled in the armchair, staring broodingly off into space. "Did he kill it?" she asks suddenly. "His father?"

"Yes." Kyra closes her eyes, remembers the sound of meat and bone ripped asunder by her powers and Merrick's will. Is the Divine dead, too? Defeated by a half-breed, just like its brother? She never thought she'd live to see the day where she actually gave a damn for the Divine's wellbeing.

"What does he want from you, anyway? You're just an abomination. What is it about you that is so special as to attract his attention?"

"Why are you still alive?" Kyra counters drowsily, sleep pulling heavily at her mind. "Why didn't he get rid of you when he killed the shaman? You're just a useless slave now who can do a handful of parlor tricks. What's keeping you alive?

She dozes off with Lihla's reply echoing in her ears, the words strangely ominous given their inherent simplicity.

"You are. Just you."

* * *

><p>Merrick stands at the side of Kyra's bed in the dark room, head cocked to the side, studying her with a slight smile on his face. She'd put her filthy clothes back on after her little bath rather than wear the gown provided for her. What a stubborn little weapon he has procured for himself.<p>

Little Kyra.

_His_ Kyra.

Finally his after all these years.

He's always known that she is special, different than the average pissants trekking over the surface of the planet. He knew as soon as he walked into Sengoku's office all those years ago and tasted the power coming off that malnourished child in waves. He'd tested her, used her time as his captive to see what abilities she possessed. It had quickly become clear that she was not the same as Merrick. She was not a half-breed mixture such as himself, but a normal human gifted with extraordinary powers.

Kyra is a queen amongst insects, and he will force her to realize this.

_But first_, he decides as he gazes down at the sleeping woman, _we need to get rid of a few things_.

He tugs the pillow from her grasp and tosses it aside even as she jerks awake, blue eyes finding him in the dark as she shrinks away from him. He latches onto her wrist before she gets very far, putting pressure on his mark and paralyzing his young mate with the pain. Kyra gives a shout of agony as black energy shoots from her skin in an encompassing globe, wrapping around the both of them before they disappear from the ship altogether.

Merrick is soon straddling the girl's hips in the midst of a jungle, apparently having overshot a bit and missed the house located some distance away. He will have to practice somewhat with Kyra's teleportation ability now that it and her other powers are at his disposal. He uses his control now to force his mate into stillness, gluing her to the ground with her own magic so that he is free to stroke his fingers across her face without her small fists striking out at him.

"Now, now," he coos gently, fascinated by the smoothness of her skin here, on this one part of her body that is free of scars save for the faint mark just to the side of her right eye. "Shh, lovey, don't be frightened. This will only hurt for a little while, I promise."

Merrick's fingers migrate to her neck, stroking over the tattoo located there as a frown warps his features. To think that a disgusting, low-level pirate had the gall to mark her like this infuriates him. The very thought that the magic sleeping inside this girl considers scum like Trafalgar Law to be worthy of bonding with her, while Merrick has been rejected, is ludicrous. They are alike, Merrick and Kyra, two powerful freaks in a world of weaklings. It is only right that they are together. It is only natural that Kyra be under Merrick's control.

Which means this tattoo and the one on Kyra's chest simply have to go.

It's an easy enough thing to pull his lovey's magic out of her and turn it onto the marks. She cannot move, though her screams echo through the jungle in a way that brings the predators out for a curious look-see. That's alright; the beasts that reside here can smell the power pouring off the both of them in waves, there is nothing for the quasi-humans to fear. Merrick strokes Kyra's face in a soothing manner as her powers dissipate, leaving two bloody holes in her body that slowly begin to heal.

She looks so horrified by his actions, as though getting rid of those blemishes is a crime against her rather than a service. Her horror seems to have left her momentarily speechless. Tears trickle in rivers down her flushed cheeks as she stares silently up at him. She looks so adorably vulnerable like this. Merrick cups her face between his hands and leans down to kiss her sweat-soaked forehead.

"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he murmurs against her skin, snaking his hand around the back of her neck. He prods the pressure points there before his lovey has a chance to form a reply, sending her nose-diving back into oblivion. It will be much easier to carry her up to the house without her struggling against him. His stubborn girl will doubtless fight him tooth and nail at every opportunity until she comes to terms with her new station in life. Merrick will wait her out, force her to accustom herself to the role he has selected for her. Sooner or later she will break; once that happens, molding her into the perfect weapon will be a simple task. She has so much power sleeping just beneath the surface - power that is now at Merrick's beck and call. The possibilities are limitless now, with Kyra under his control and the wonderful gifts his late father bestowed upon him.

Merrick lifts Kyra's prone form into his arms, sneering at the thought of his sire. He'd grown up without the creature's presence in his life, raised by the broken wreck of a woman who had given birth to him. Merrick's mother had been a woman of great beauty once upon a time, a sought after prize on her home island far away in East Blue. It was then that Merrick's father had first laid eyes upon her. The immortal had been instantly captivated by this ethereal human, and determined to have her for its own. It had appeared to her in dreams for many months, wooing her with promises of a grand life by its side. The human woman had never stood a chance. She had thrown away the opportunity at a happy, normal life with her own people to let a monster snatch her away from her home to a virtually deserted island along the dangerous Grand Line. She had been happy with the thing, in love, living a dream.

Until she had become pregnant.

The creature did not understand human reproduction. It had no prior knowledge on which to lean as to how to deliver a baby into the world. So it was that in the immortal's infinite wisdom, Merrick's very pregnant mother had appeared out of thin air in the middle of a busy street in the town in which she had grown up, to the astonishment and terror of the people who had seen her borne away by a monster years before.

Needless to say, they had not welcomed her back with open arms.

Merrick pushes such thoughts away as he carries his mate through the jungle, stalked by enormous animals that would no sooner attack him than they would adopt the human tongue. He has always hated this place, hated the thought of living here where his father once held sway. The house now visible before him is the only trapping of civilization on the godsforsaken spit of land, the rest of the place encouraged to run wild. Well, it is his in full, now that his father has met the grisly end it deserved. It will soon be tamed to better fit Merrick's taste, better molded to suite Merrick's purposes. For now, it will provide both shelter and prison for Kyra as he asserts his dominance over her.

The back door of the extravagant house opens at his approach. The woman who comes out to greet him is old now, her once sleek chestnut hair white with age and hardship, the beauty of her face broken with lines and spots. Her tired brown eyes wander from the young woman in Merrick's arms to the Rear-Admiral's face, a wan smile pulling up the corners of her mouth.

"Welcome home, dear. Is this the long-term guest you've told me to expect? The wards have been set, and I have a room prepared for her."

Merrick smiles, bending slightly to place a chaste kiss on the woman's wrinkled cheek.

"Hello, Mother. It's good to be home."

* * *

><p>AN: Please review.


	36. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.

Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.

* * *

><p>The Surgeon of Death sits on the deck of his sub, legs hanging between the railing around the edges and gaze fixed blankly out to sea. He gives his bare head an idle shake, as if to rid himself of the echoing screams teasing the back of his mind. It is an ungodly hour, somewhere in the deepest dark of the night when the world slumbers. His crew sleeps; the crew of the Red Force dreams within the safety of their own ship, just within shouting distance of his submarine. The sea is calm for the New World. Law should be sprawled gracelessly across his bed, catching a few precious hours of unconsciousness while he has the chance.<p>

It is to escape this supposedly restful activity that he has come out here, jerked from sleep by the images that burn his eyes every time he blinks.

Fucking Divine and his damn 'punishment'. Isn't it bad enough that Law's magician is prisoner to Merrick, doomed to suffer until her captain tracks the madman down? Why must Law relive her years as Merrick's test subject when he is near sick with worry over what's being done to her in the present?

He wishes for the hundredth time that Kyra had never learned of the existence of that fucking flying monstrosity. They never would have quarreled; the creature wouldn't have antagonized Merrick, thereby putting an even bigger target on Kyra's back; he would never have sent her away; she would never have fallen into Merrick's hands.

The papers are full of her recent exploits under that fucking madman's control. Merrick has apparently shed his mask of genteel Naval officer to show the world his true self, with Kyra as his unwilling weapon of mass destruction. The pair appears out of thin air on whichever unfortunate isle the former Rear-Admiral chooses; the Demon Witch unleashes her fury; and the two of them vanish like ghosts after the bloodbath. Several islands in the New World have already fallen; Merrick seems to be working his way back to Fishman Island. From there he will no doubt decimate the Grand Line, and after that he will destroy the Four Blues. With Kyra's magic under his command, there is little the Marines and their pathetic arsenal can do to stop Merrick's mad rise to power. And all Law himself can do is chase after them, his crew and their insanely powerful new allies in tow.

All of this because of one immortal furball with an immensely inflated sense of self importance.

Life would be so much easier if not for the Divine's abrupt appearance in it. Small mercy that the creature hasn't shown its face since fucking with Law's head before Red-Haired Shanks showed up almost a month ago; experience dictates that it will inevitably return sooner rather than later.

"Hey! That you, Law? What's wrong, can't sleep?"

In the meantime, the Yonkou searching with him has more than made up for the Divine's absence in terms of an unwanted annoyance. They haven't had much contact this _week_, but the time the Dark Doctor has spent in Red-Haired Shanks' company has been far from enjoyable. Shanks has made it his personal mission to guilt-trip Law to an early death for sending Kyra away in the first place. Every single conversation the Dark Doctor has been forced to share with the Yonkou has revolved around this issue. Avoiding the man has become a very high priority.

Law turns his head in time to see the older pirate easily leap the rather impressive distance between their two ships, landing on the deck of the submarine with nary a stumble. His habitual grin stretches across his face as he ambles over to sit at the surgeon's side, sticking his legs between the gaps in the railing and leaning back on his hands. The sea breeze plays with his vibrant hair and the loose fabric of his shirt, unprotected by the usual black trench coat.

"You know, skipping sleep isn't the healthiest thing in the world. Would've figured a doctor knew that already," Shanks states somewhat pompously, turning that annoying grin on Law. As if he has every right to preach to the younger man.

"I assure you, Mr. Shanks: drinking your body weight in alcohol every day will kill you much faster than a few sleepless nights."

A disbelieving laugh is given in response. "A few? You haven't slept more than a couple of hours a night all month! C'mon, seriously, it's not good for you. What's keeping you up, huh?"

The coldness of the look Law bestows upon his irritating companion would make lesser men piss themselves in terror. "That is none of your business, Mr. Shanks. I would thank you to remember that while the two of us have made a temporary alliance, that does not give you the right to question or dictate to me. I am not in the habit of allowing anyone to tell me what I should or should not do. You are no exception, Yonkou or not."

"Well, the kid isn't here to make you take care of yourself. I just figured I'd do it for her until we get her back."

Law has a scalpel in hand before he registers moving. He forces himself to put it back in his pocket, working to bear in mind that though Red-Haired Shanks has done little else all month except act like a complete fool while in Law's company, he is in fact one of the most powerful people in the world and could doubtlessly end Law's life in an instant if he so chose. It would be folly to attack him, no matter how maddening his unwarranted concern for Law's wellbeing is.

His constant - and seemingly unintentional - reminders of Law's mistake are infuriating. Every time the Dark Doctor even glances at the bastard's left arm it is akin to a punch in the gut. It would be so much more preferable if Shanks would just leave Law be and stay on his own damn ship; constant visits from the older seafarer do nothing but piss the young Shichibukai off.

And the kicker is that he has no one present to be furious with but himself.

"If you've only come over here to repeat yourself, Mr. Shanks, now would be the appropriate time to fuck off. I don't care to hear all this again; nor do I require a babysitter," he growls warningly, hoping with near desperation that the Yonkou will decide to be merciful and spar him the unwanted concerned advice that is surely about to come. It's always the same with Shanks; no blame, not outwardly, but pointed little comments about Law's health and wellbeing, as if either of those things is any of his damn business.

Shanks continues blithely on, as though Law hasn't even spoken.

"Merrick's apparently working his way from out here back to the Grand Line. Did you get a news gull today? They're in the papers again, and I know where this newest place is. I think if we rush we can catch up to them before they hit Fishman Island, but we won't be any good to anybody if we're exhausted when we do. How do you expect to fight Merrick and Kyra both if you can't stand because you're too stubborn to get some shut-eye? You understand that you will eventually have to fight Kyra, don't you? There's no getting around it. You've told me what she's like, and I've talked with your men enough to get a general picture of her. She's not usually a mindless killing machine. She hates the Marines, doesn't have a single problem using their guts for garters, but she doesn't kill civilians unless it's completely unavoidable. She wouldn't normally be wiping out whole islands of people for no apparent reason, and if she didn't want you in a tussle with the newest Yonkou, she sure as hell wouldn't be destroying islands under the protection of say me, or Big Mom, or Kaidou. Everybody knows that Demon Witch Kyra is a Heart Pirate. Every time Kyra racks up another massacre on a Yonkou-protected isle, she paints a bigger target on _your_ back."

His voice may be easy-going and careless, but the black eyes locked with Law's own are as cold and merciless as ice. "I somehow doubt that Kyra's raking in the kills just for shits and giggles. I get that there's probably a handful of things regarding those strange powers of hers that you and your boys are keeping close to the chest - such as why exactly she doesn't just use them to make mincemeat out of Merrick - but I'm not actually as stupid as I like to pretend."

Red-Haired Shanks smiles again, the expression as dangerous as a naked blade. "My guess is that Merrick's controlling her somehow, and _you_ know how to stop it. So that means you are going to have to be the one who fights Kyra when we find her. And I think you haven't quite faced up to the possibility that one or the other of you is going to end up dead before this whole thing is over."

The bastard is making it very hard for Law not to let his instincts force him to do something extremely stupid.

Trafalgar Law is not a good man. He has killed; tortured; experimented; pillaged all over the world. His blood lust is matched only by his cruel sense of humor. He cares for no one and nothing except the next spot of fun, his crew...

And Kyra.

A prisoner to a madman because Law had sent her away and she had tried so fucking hard to return to his side. _His_ magician that is likely to kill him when next they meet, or die by his hand.

Why does Shanks have to point this out? What does he know, the fucking bastard? Has he ever had to come to terms with such a thing? Has he ever faced the possibility that he may well have to kill the one person he cares most deeply for, while spending every unconscious moment watching her suffer in the past and knowing that her present is just as odious? Shanks can talk big, can make observations, and he's an expert at stating the fucking obvious; but can he say he has been in such a position before?

Law seriously doubts it.

A sudden painful twinge draws Law's attention to the fact that he is gritting his teeth against the multitude of less than polite things he would like to say to Red-Haired Shanks at the moment. He works his jaw in silence, using his extreme self discipline to wrestle the volcano of fury simmering in his breast back under control. Shanks is not telling him anything he hasn't already acknowledged to himself. Lashing out at the man for reminding Law of his unenviable position would be pointless. The Surgeon of Death is no pushover, but neither is he a fool: a one-on-one brawl with the Yonkou at his side would only result in grievous injury to his person and pride.

Which by this point is the _only _reason Law hasn't tried to slit the other man's throat.

"I understand that you're in love with the kid, Law," Shanks informs him in a soft tone, as though hoping to soothe while simultaneously pissing the Shichibukia off. "But that's one of the biggest reasons why you need to come to terms with this. You owe it to her."

Here he actually has the temerity to put a hand on the Surgeon of Death's shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. "If you have to kill her... I know that if it were me, I'd want to be the one to do it."

...Son of a bitch, this man makes self control extremely challenging.

Shanks takes Law's fuming silence in stride, apparently at least intelligent enough to grasp the gravity of what he's saying. His expression morphs to one of resignation, and he releases the surgeon's shoulder to run his hand through his vibrant locks with a quiet sigh.

"Ben would be telling me to shut the hell up and leave you alone right about now... but I want to ask you something first. You sent her away because you love her; I get that. Imagine if the situation was reversed, and you were being forced to act in a manner completely opposite of your true nature. Wouldn't you want Kyra to be the one to set you free... one way or another?"

Such a disgusting, heartfelt voice being used when Shanks wishes to pound whatever message he's trying to convey into his audience's skull with a mallet. Law tries to ignore the red-headed legend, hoping he will grow tired of spouting unwanted truths and return to his own ship in a timely manner. To Hell with him, anyway; he will never be anything other than an observer to the circus that Law's life has become. Shanks is only here to repay a debt; he has no personal stake in Kyra's safety and wellbeing.

_Obviously_ - he wouldn't be sitting here right now, telling Law to consider killing his magician, otherwise.

"It's a hell of a thing to consider, but you _owe_ it to her to consider it. You owe it to her as her friend, her captain, the man she chose to build a life and - well, I don't know - have kids with or whatever, so -"

"_**Room**_."

The blue sphere of his devil fruit power stretches to the deck of the Red Force, far enough to include a couple of barrels near the main mast of the impressive ship. Shanks falls silent at last as Law stands and raises his hand, two fingers extended and patience long expended. "Shambles."

Shanks vanishes, replaced by the barrels from his ship. Law lets his powers dissipate as he turns to go inside, his solitude on the deck of his own sub ruined by Shanks' cutting babble. The other captain does not try to call out to him before the Shichibukai slams the hatch closed behind him. His torture via exposure to the Yonkou with the scarlet tresses is done for the night. Maybe the gods will have pity on him tomorrow, and grant him a reprieve in Shanks' unwanted company when next he wakes from watching his magician's skin melt and regrow on repeat in his nightmares.

That parting shot about children should grant him at least one night's relief, surely. That was a low blow even by Law's standards.

He has no sooner returned to his room and flopped face down onto his bed than a much more infuriating someone makes their presence known.

"How dare you lie there at ease, human filth? My little one is being forced to kill by that half-breed trash, yet you think to waste precious time with _sleep_?"

Law ponders the likelihood of the Divine simply leaving if he pretends it is not there. Every time this bastard of a creature presents itself, trouble follows quickly on its heels. Rolling over, Law sits up on the edge of his mattress and puts his head in his hands with a sigh. "Why don't you just bring her to me, if you know where she is? Why do you leave her with Merrick?"

He hears what sounds suspiciously like the rustling of feathers before his unwanted guest speaks again. "I cannot remove her from the abomination without killing her. Until their bond is severed, if she is taken from it, she will die. It is not like the connection once shared between the two of you. This is a perversion of the soul bond; she is forced to be the abomination's mate, whereas her powers chose to bond her to you. Your bond, pure though it was, could be broken quite easily by my people. That is not the case this time; extreme care must be used, else her life will end."

A deep sense of cold comes upon the Surgeon of Death as he processes this. Why the hell has the damn thing waited so fucking long to share such important information. If he steals his magician back, she will die. That is not acceptable. However, the alternative choice to leave her in Merrick's possession is ludicrous. There must be a way to free her. Law fists his hands in his hair, mind racing for a suitable course of action. There must be a way.

There must be.

"How can we break their bond?" he spits out; that is the only answer he can see. Kyra is anchored to Merrick as long as they are bonded - so the bond must be broken if Law is to free her _without_ killing her.

Red-Haired Shanks and his unwanted warnings could go fuck themselves.

He hears movement, but still it is a shock when a large hand closes tightly over his skull. Law is about to demand that the Divine release him, but before any words can be spoken he finds himself thrown into what is obviously a vision. He is standing in an unfamiliar room occupied by four powerful beings, one of whom is sitting on another, cooing at it like a favored pet.

_"-nally, lovey, you're going to be mine."_

Law watches as Rafe Merrick sinks his teeth into Kyra's arm, listens to her screams, watches as her out of control powers decimate the Divine and its now dead brother. The vision ends as abruptly as it started, leaving the pirate with a truly spectacular headache and a fierce desire to maim something.

"I believe I've told you before not to screw with my head, creature," he growls as the Divine removes its hand from his head. How hard would it have been just to tell Law whatever he was supposed to have gained from that jaunt down a foreign memory lane?

"Did you see the filth putting his mark on her? As you once did?"

Law massages his temples, trying to think past the exhaustion that weighs so heavily on him. He needs uninterrupted sleep. How is he to function when worry for his magician badgers his days and visions of her past tortures haunt his dreams? "The bite?"

"Precisely. The infected appendage must be removed in order to pull the bond asunder."

_**What?**_

The Surgeon of Death very slowly lowers his hands to his lap, leaving his face visible so that his guest may see the utterly terrifying glare currently stamped across his visage.

"You're saying that I must cut off her arm?" he inquires, voice deathly quiet. "You want me to raise my blade against Kyra and bring her physical harm. Is that what you are implying?"

"There is no implication - only truth. To free the little one from the corruption of a bond placed upon her by one not chosen by her powers, the limb or area of her body on which the bonding mark was placed must be severed from her. Until then, she is linked to the abomination - body, soul, and magic."

"Then why not just kill Merrick?" Law growls, rage thrumming through his blood at the very idea of maiming his magician when Merrick's death is much more preferable.

The Divine shakes its magnificent head, looking every bit as exhausted as Law feels in that moment. "It is the nature of the corruption. As I said, the little one is tied to the half-breed in body, soul, and magic. Therefore if _it _is killed, _she _will die as well."

_...Fuck!_

It appears that the next time he sees Kyra, the first thing he will be forced to do is cause her a great deal of pain. It makes no difference that she can regrow a lost limb; he is sure that she will see this as just another betrayal, like banning her from using her powers or sending her away like an unwanted parcel. It will complicate an already impossible situation, should they both survive it. Law drops his head into his hands again, shaking from lack of sleep and the fury still burning in his veins. Damn Merrick. Damn the half-breed bastard to hell.

"How much more traveling?" he mutters tiredly, wanting nothing more than to curl up around his magician in their bed. How many more days before he can reclaim her?

"I cannot say; they are rarely stationary. I shall monitor them, and do what I can for the little one. You will speak to your new masters before coming for her. Make haste, human. Her pain will be yours for as long as it takes you to find her again. It is little more than you deserve."

It is gone before Law can form a retort, leaving behind the thrilling promise of more unwanted memories to fuel his sleeplessness and that same peculiar order as the last time they spoke. Why is it that the Divine thinks the bastards of the Navy would lift a finger against one of its golden boys for no reason other than to pacify a pissed off Warlord? An institute as corrupt as the Marines probably won't even care that Kyra is being forced to butcher people on Merrick's orders; it would be so easy for them to pin all of the blame on the Demon Witch while Merrick gets off scot free. It wouldn't be the first time a Marine's evil deeds had been completely glossed over for the sake of the Navy's public image.

So why is it so damn important to contact them before catching up to the cursed Rear-Admiral?

If he isn't going to get any sleep, he may as well look into it.

Law is halfway to the bridge when the ceiling in front of him caves in with a shower of wood, steel, and fire. Great; obviously the universe hasn't fucked him over enough yet, it wants to add to his misery by seeing freakin' cannonballs bust through his submarine. More proof that if the gods Kyra likes to curse at are in fact real, Law has long been on their collective shit-list.

It takes a moment before the pirate realizes that the fire is actually shouting at him.

"...fucking hard to find, and your ship is flippin' yellow! I've been looking for you for weeks! Where the fuck are you going, man, and why the hell haven't you opened a can of whupass on this asshole yet?!"

Fire Fist Ace is standing in his wrecked submarine hallway, fury clear in his fire-spotted features and one hand waving a rumpled newspaper very close to Law's face. Before the doctor can fully process this, a brilliantly blue-and-gold creature soars through the hole Fire Fist's hasty entrance created, its flaming body shifting until none other than Marco the Phoenix stands gazing at Law with half-lidded eyes and a frown on his face.

There is a crash behind Law, an animalistic sound of rage; in seconds Bepo is darting past him, crouching defensively in front of his captain with his fur standing on end. The bear snarls at the intruders, ready to rip them to shreds if they even consider attacking. He rears back a paw in preparation to strike, just waiting for his captain's orders.

Marco's gaze moves slowly from Law's face to Bepo and back again, plainly not the least bit intimidated.

"The former Whitebeard pirates have made an alliance with the Straw Hats and your witch, yoi," he announces lazily, as though commenting on the weather. "As we noticed when we got here, you've obviously allied with the Red-Haired pirates as well. Do you guys have a plan of action, or are you just sailing around hoping to bump into the girl?"

Law is not too exhausted to bristle defensively at Marco's thinly veiled insult to his intelligence. Bepo, easily sensing his captain's every twitch, growls in a warning that goes ignored. From behind the Dark Doctor comes the sound of footsteps; Bepo's abrupt and noisy departure from the crew's sleeping quarters has brought them running, no doubt armed to the teeth and eager for a fight. He lifts a hand to stop them, eying Fire Fist with a small amount of dread.

"Tell me you didn't bring Mr. Straw Hat with you. I don't want that idiot on my ship again."

Ace scowls at this slight to his precious brother, extinguishing his flames and stuffing the now very burnt newspaper into one of his pockets. "Luffy's leading his crew and our friends back towards Fishman Island. Marco figures that prick will work his way there with Kyra before making a go at Mariejois. If we hurry, we should be able to catch up to Luffy before then. You wanna get off your ass and get this piece of shit moving? Don't you care what happens to her, Law?"

Law does not reply beyond a cold glare. Fire Fist knows nothing of his feelings for his magician. He doesn't owe these two intruders any explanation; if they don't like it, they can get the hell off of his submarine.

"Haru," he says, voice void of inflection. His lead mechanic is instantly at his side.

"Captain?"

"Fix this mess," he commands, waving a hand to indicate the gaping hole above them courtesy of Fire Fist Ace. "Gable."

"Captain?"

"Set a course for Fishman Island. You still have the Eternal Pose?"

"Yes, Captain."

Their first trip to Fishman Island had been cut extremely short. Before Kyra transported the lot of them off the island and into the New World, Gable had just barely had enough time to acquire both a New World Log Pose and an Eternal Pose to Fishman Island. He had informed Law of his purchases after the fact; the cautious navigator felt it would be better safe than sorry to pick up the Eternal Pose to the relative safety of Fishman Island, when not a one of them had a clue just what kind of catastrophic dangers they might be facing in the New World. That investment is about to pay off.

Law turns away from his unwanted guests, tired eyes seeking out Sachi and Penguin as Gable passes him on the way to the control room. "You two get this sub moving. Full power from the engines. We don't have any more time to waste."

The duo doesn't even stop to confirm their order; in an instant they are both striding purposefully away, headed for the engine room to do as their captain wishes. Those men who have not been ordered to do otherwise meander back towards their quarters, no doubt hoping for a few more hours of shut-eye before dawn. Bepo does not move, still crouched defensively between his captain and the two powerhouse pirates, teeth and claws bared in warning. Fire Fist is eyeing the bear appreciatively, a stupid grin on his freckled face.

"Luffy told me about you," the young man says conversationally. "You're Law's talking bear?"

And just like that all of Bepo's ferocity evaporates. He straightens up, lets his paws hang at his side, and bows his head in submission. Depression rolls off of him in palpable waves.

"Sorry."

Law brushes his sulking first mate aside, not in the mood to deal with him just now. "Get out of my sub. We need to go, and I don't have the patience for extra mouths on board. You can tell Shanks what's going on and sail with him."

Ace loses the grin and gives Law a nasty glare. "Hey, man, you might want to remember that we don't have to listen to you! _We_ are the ones helping _you_ find your girl, asshole! Don't sling around orders like we're supposed to hop to at your command! You're not our captain!"

"No," Law concedes in a mocking tone, done with this bullshit. He hasn't had enough sleep to deal with a PMSing brat, let alone a grown-ass man on the verge of having a fucking temper tantrum. "Your captain's **_dead_ **because of _you;_ isn't that right, Fire Fist?"

The son of Gol D. Roger draws himself up, his face a volcano of fury just waiting to erupt. Before he can so much as open his mouth, the previously quiet Phoenix puts a hand on his shoulder in a clear command to calm the hell down. Ace looks utterly rebellious, but manages to refrain from torching Law as he so obviously wants to. Half lidded grey eyes turn to the Surgeon of Death, the gaze cutting through him with the precision of a scalpel.

"We'll inform Shanks of the situation," Marco states, voice flat and calm, "then follow after you."

The older man taps his sworn brother on the shoulder and indicates the hole above them, obviously ordering the younger pirate to precede him outside. Ace does so with one more murderous look in Law's direction. Marco does not immediately follow, instead regarding Law for a long moment before speaking again.

"Don't speak of Pops to us again," he orders quietly, a wealth of power behind his words. "Remember that my brothers and I don't give a shit about you, Trafalgar Law. We're helping you because of the girl, yoi. And allying with you won't do a single fucking thing to stop any one of us from gutting you in your sleep if you provoke us like that again. You're already in our black books for sending her away in the first place, yoi. You don't want to piss us off any worse."

And in a flash of blue and gold flames Whitebeard's former First Division Commander flies through the hole after his brother.

Law stands in the hall for a long moment, Bepo just behind him, Haru easing past with his tools to begin repairing the damage to the sub. His bones ache with fatigue, his eyes are itchy with his sleeplessness, and it does not appear that he will be getting any relief for either tonight. He has just insulted and infuriated two very powerful men who apparently already have a bit of a grudge against him. Large doses of exposure to Straw Hat Luffy and his special brand of insanity lie in Law's future. Mutilation of his woman is unavoidable at their coming meeting, should he wish to free her from Merrick's influence without ending her life.

And still the corners of his lip pull up into the first honest smirk to grace his visage in over a month.

She's close. His magician will soon be in his reach once again.

_Excellent_.

* * *

><p>Kyra sits on a beach at sunset, a child in her lap, singing softly as she strokes a hand through blood-matted hair.<p>

_"Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee, all through the night,"_ she croons as the little boy fights for breath, his lungs punctured by pieces of his shattered ribs, his chest cavity a gaping crater. _"Guardian angels the gods will send thee, all through the night..."_

But if ever a guardian angel could have helped this boy, that time is past. The kid gives one last feeble huff before going still, dead in Kyra's arms. She gently closes his eyes before laying him out on the sand and getting to her feet.

Another island, another bloodbath. Sometimes they fight back; sometimes they do nothing but scream. None of them have a chance in Hell. Brave warriors, helpless children, simpering women and wizened elders who fling curses at her; all of them die the same. She has killed pregnant mothers without the slightest hesitation. She has crushed the skulls of infants with her bare hands.

And Merrick watches it all with a smile on his face.

The souls of the dead follow Kyra by day, demanding vengeance before they can rest, unable to pass on while the Demon Witch's magic binds them to her mate's nefarious will. Their faces and voices haunt Kyra's dreams. She does not know why Merrick has trapped them on this plane, or what possible use he may have for souls that number in the hundreds. She can do nothing but continue to kill, her actions ruthlessly controlled by the half-breed monster.

Cool hands circle her neck, calloused digits tenderly grazing her skin as a warm bulk settles lightly against her back.

"Well done, lovey. You've done so wonderfully." Poisoned praise whispers in her ear, that hated voice cooing at her like she's a prized pet that has just accomplished a difficult trick. Kyra imagines those filthy fingers closing around her throat, pictures the world going dark as she struggles and fails to breathe, dreams of dying and finally being able to rest. It is not a displeasing fantasy.

Merrick's hands migrate down to her shoulders, squeezing possessively. "Mother's expecting us for supper, lovey. I think it's time to go home."

_Home._ Veneficus; her mother's soft hands and softer voice, her homespun clothes and home cooked meals. Silky black hair that Kyra could brush for hours; lullabies and stories and the warmth of a mother's love.

_Home._ A fucking eyesore of a submarine; Law's teasing and taunting and constant little touches; that stupid hat and his numerous tattoos. Lying in bed with him at night, tracing the lines of ink permanently etched into his skin as he does the same to her; acceptance and possession and the inferno of his desire for her.

_Home._

Kyra's magic deposits the sorceress and her hated mate in Merrick's house, where the smells of food waft to them in a futile attempt to cover the stench of blood. Merrick's mother can be heard in the direction of the kitchen, singing softly to herself. The setting sun throws colors into the building, a beautiful rainbow of reds and pinks and purples, bathing Kyra in the hues of evening.

Such a lovely looking Hell for such a damned soul.

Lihla materializes from nowhere, taking Kyra by the elbow and dragging her away as Merrick goes to let his mother know that they have returned. The blonde hellcat is as subdued as always in the evenings, saying nothing as she leads Kyra upstairs to a tub of hot scented water. They are both silent as the Demon Witch strips herself of her clothing and climbs into the bath; no words are exchanged as they both work to rid Kyra's body of the smell of slaughter.

It won't work. It never does. Death follows her everywhere she goes like a plague.

She sits on the floor by the fireplace in her assigned chambers as the slaves drag the tub away to empty, her hair a wild mess of damp curls and goose pimples covering her skin, despite her proximity to the roaring fire and the thick terrycloth robe wrapped around her body. The dead whisper to her, pleas for release or demands for revenge - she can't understand individuals within the collective anymore. There are too many voices trying to make themselves heard for any level of comprehension. It doesn't matter anyway; she can't give any of them what they want.

A bowl of stew is placed on the floor next to the brooding sorceress, her unwanted and very unwilling slave plopping down on the thick fur rug just behind where she sits. Kyra thanks whatever gods exist for the small mercy of not having to eat with Merrick and his mother. The half-breed freak seems very protective of his matriarch; Kyra has no interaction with the woman, which means meals in this house are eaten alone or in the presence of her new fulltime body slave. It is the only time of the day where Merrick does not torment her with his very presence. At night she is safe, her dreams closed to the fucker who forced a bond on her as they were not from the mate her powers chose.

Thinking back to the days when Kyra cursed her magic's choice is almost enough to bring a bitter laugh to her lips.

Almost.

"If you want help treating your arm, then lets get it over with," Lihla huffs, her tone that of a petulant child given some much hated chore to complete. An observer might very well think she was the one caused pain by 'treating' Kyra's arm.

Wordlessly, Kyra shifts to face her childhood nemesis and holds out her left arm. The limb is traced up to her shoulder with grotesque black veins that bulge slightly against her skin. The bite mark with which Merrick bound her to him is inflamed and angry, looking very much like the bite of some venomous creature whose poison has sunk deep into Kyra's blood. Technically, that's not exactly far from the truth. The only difference is that there can be no cure for this beast's poison save death.

Lihla pulls a small pot from a pocket in her skirt, unscrewing the lid and scooping out a glob of greenish goop that looks very much like a large chunk of snot. She proceeds to smear this concoction across the bite, taking no care not to hurt Kyra in the process and sending the usual bolt of agony through the infected limb. Light wisps of smoke rise from the wound as it reacts to the medicine, some of the bone deep ache fading from the afflicted arm as the nasty paste does its work. By morning the healing effects will have worn off, but at least for tonight it will be one less thing to plague Kyra's restless sleep.

Small mercies, and smaller rewards.

They don't talk afterwards. The hellish situations the pair are trapped in does not erase years of mutual hatred; they are not suddenly friends, have not forgiven past trespasses. Given the chance, Kyra would strangle Lihla with her own intestines - and laugh while the light left her fellow captive's eyes. Likewise, Lihla would like nothing more than to kill the one whom she holds partially responsible for her father's murder. Neither of them wants to be here. Both of them are slaves to Merrick's whims. Both of them long for the foul bastard's painful demise.

But that sure as shit doesn't mean they like each other.

Lihla claims the large bed in the room without discussion while Kyra curls up on the fur rug, stew forgotten and lids falling closed over weary eyes. She's so tired; tired of the killing, tired of her life, of everything. Why can't it just end? She just wants to sleep forever. Sleep forever, and dream of Law...

She finds herself standing in a blank space, nothing but white all around her. The bite on her wrist throbs and pulses, the black veins crawling up her arm dancing under the skin like snakes to a piper's tune. Whispers echo in the space, bouncing back to her again and again.

_Peace... give us peace..._

_Free us..._

_End this... make it end..._

_Want to go on..._

_No more... no more pain..._

Kyra stares out into the white, letting the cries of the dead wash over her. She wants to help them, set them free, but she can't. She does nothing that her mate and master does not allow. Her powers are yoked to his will like an ox to a plow. Kyra can no more free the dead than she can free herself.

A weight settles into her right hand, opposite the one which bears Merrick's mark. Puzzled, Kyra looks down to find that she now holds a thin black cord which appears to stretch behind her. The mage turns, spotting the dark line standing out starkly against it's pure surrounding, stretching far into the distance. Intrigued, Kyra slowly puts one foot in front of the other. The gathering slack of the cord curls almost lovingly around her arm as she walks, its presence somehow soothing to her in a way she can't exactly pin down. Its weight makes her feel... safe. Wanted.

Loved.

She doesn't even notice the snow that begins to fall as she slowly trudges onwards, alone but for the quiet cries of the dead.

* * *

><p>Countless leagues away, Law is in the midst of a conversation with Gable about the sea currents and the amount of speed they might lose when the pirate captain abruptly lists to the side, one hand thrown out to a chart-covered table in an attempt to stabilize himself. The room suddenly feels as though it has tilted sharply, leaving Law off balance and disoriented. The fact that Gable is unaffected is less than comforting.<p>

"Captain!" the navigator exclaims, jumping to grab hold of Law's jacket collar of feathers before his superior face plants in his control room. "What's going on, are you alright? Captain Law?!"

The young Warlord hears Gable's words as though from a great distance, a barely there noise in his ears. His body is heavy and lethargic, as though someone has removed his bones and replaced them with lead. He suddenly finds himself sitting on the floor with his useless legs stretched out in front of him, a panicking Gable trying to talk to him. Whatever is said doesn't register; it feels as though Law's head is stuffed with cotton. He barely has time himself to wonder just what the fuck is going on before his eyes fall shut against his will.

* * *

><p>The black cord seems endless, its slack never seeming to increase around Kyra's arm as she plods on. It is growing colder, and she has finally registered the fat flakes of snow falling around her. The lighting in this emptiness has shifted, becoming darker and greyer the farther she walks. She doesn't know why she is following this rope of darkness, or what she might find at the end; all Kyra knows is that she must keep walking. Even the dead seem to agree with her, the whispering voices egging her on.<p>

_Don't stop now!_

_Keep going!_

_You have to reach the end! You have to reach it for us!_

_Keep going! Hurry! Go!_

She doesn't know how long she has walked before she looks around and recognizes where she is. Kyra stops then, body trembling, tears welling up in her eyes to spill down her cheeks. Is this real? Is this _their_ place? Is this actually happening? Kyra stands in a field of snow, modeled after a place in Law's home of North Blue, sobbing quietly and hoping against hope for something she doesn't dare put a name to.

"Please," she gasps out, falling to her knees so that she can gather handfuls of the snow to press to her cheeks, relishing in the cold. She raises her head to the previously blank sky, now pitch black and dotted with stars. Her eyes close, the hope and terror of disappointment so great she can hardly draw breath to sob. "Please, please, please..."

The cord clenched in one snow-filled fist goes taut just as a sharp intake of breath from in front of her informs the sorceress that she is no longer alone. Kyra remains where she is, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut, heart in her throat and hot tears dripping from her face. That smell... oh, gods, she knows that smell. Ocean and antiseptic and man. She lowers her head, shuffling blindly forward on her knees with hands now stretch out before her. Soon enough her questing fingers hit cloth, clenching tight around the fabric as she leans forward to press her face against it. Whatever she clutches lets out a whooshing rush of air, shifting under her forehead.

**_"Please,"_** Kyra sobs again, voice hoarse but drenched in hope, eyes still shut tight. **_"Pleasepleaseplease..."_**

Strong fingers gather fistfuls of her curls near the roots, wrenching her head back with a brutal yank. Thumbs wipe at the soaked skin beneath her eyes, futilely trying to rid her of the evidence of tears. Hot breath blows over her face, so close, oh gods so close now...

"Kyra."

The sound of _that_ voice, _that_ voice which she has so longed to hear whispering to her again, sends her eyes flying open in an instant. Bloodshot blue eyes lock with equally exhausted grey. He looks different. His top has changed; instead of the yellow hoodie with black arms that he had gifted to her, he wears a black long-sleeved jacket with his Jolly Roger in yellow on the chest. The fabric is thick and heavy in her fists. His throat is collared by a ring of dark feathers, his goatee and sideburns looking wilder against his tan face. The bags beneath his cold eyes are darker than ever, a sure sign of his continuous lack of sleep since last they were together. He looks years older than he had the day he held her close and told her he loved her.

But he is here, and he is real.

Trafalgar Law stares down at her like a man who has just seen his god, hands clenching ever tighter in her hair. His usually narrowed eyes are wide in shock, roving over her face as though to rememorize the familiar features. His thumbs dig into her cheeks, the blunt nails carving small half moons into her pale skin as he yanks her face closer to his.

"Before we met, you wrote about me in your diary. What did you write?" Law demands coldly, no trace of emotion in his icy voice. Kyra stares at him uncomprehendingly for a moment before it dawns on her what he is doing. He doesn't know if what he's seeing is reality or fantasy. He's trying to make sure that Kyra is Kyra, and not some game or hallucination.

"You... you read it!?" she sobs out, tears still streaming as she releases his jacket and buries her own fingers in his hair, knocking his hat off in the process. "Wrote... wrote about your weird Devil F-fruit, a-a-and you l-l-looked like a smartass and-and the c-c-cool hat - oh, gods! Real? This... this is _real_?!"

Instead of answering with words, Law proceeds to close the miniscule distance between them and claims her mouth in a searing, brutal kiss that puts paid to any doubts in an instant.

It tastes like coming home.

* * *

><p>The Surgeon of Death lies in the snow of his unconscious mind with his magician's nude body pressed to his own, his fingers tracing the too-prominent nobs of her spine as she follows the lines of his tattoos with her own trembling digits. They are both sweat-soaked and something like sated, clothes long since lost to the dreamscape. He can hear what sounds like the whispers of many voices, whispers that had risen to a howl as Law and Kyra had become intimately reacquainted with one another. He ignores it; he doesn't give a shit about strange voices when he has his woman back in his dreams at long last.<p>

**_The connection is re-established. I told you that I would do what I could for her; she has need of you. Treat her well, human, or you will face my wrath._**

He ignores _that_ particular voice, too. Law is having a long awaited reunion with his magician; the fucking meddlesome Divine can go to hell for the moment and leave them both alone. If Kyra heard the creature's statement and warning she gives no sign, nor does she stop stroking Law's tattoos. He shifts slightly in the perversely warm snow, pausing as Kyra's fingers clutch at him frantically.

"Don't go."

Law's cold heart clenches at the plea in her voice, the desperation. He tightens his arms around her and buries his nose in her hair, lamenting the absence of her usual scent even as he relishes in the texture of the strands against his face.

"Not yet," Kyra babbles, tone dancing on the edge of hysteria. "Not yet, you can't, just a little longer, a little while more. Don't go yet. Don't leave me."

"_Shhhhhh_." He strokes one hand gently up and down her back, the other taking a firm hold of one hip to reassure her. "I'm here. I won't leave. _Shhhh_."

His magician quiets, still holding onto him as though he might vanish at any moment. Law can't say he blames her; it feels as though any second now he will jolt awake and realize this is all just another of the Divine's damn games designed to torture him. If that does happen, the Dark Doctor will not rest until that creature has suffered a bloody, brutal death by his hands. This... this would be going too far, even for the inhuman menace.

She's so different. The robe she wore earlier is not her style, too rich, too ostentatious. Her tattoos are gone as though they were never there in the first place. There are shadows under her eyes that rival his own, and more in her eyes that have aged her prematurely. He has not questioned her yet, but thorough investigation of her tresses was not necessary to see the streaks of white that go from roots to tips all over her head. She is thin, sickly skinny; his hands should not stretch that far around her waist or limbs. There are no new scars on Kyra's pasty white skin, but it is pathetically obvious that Law's magician has suffered while they have been apart. The bite wound on her left wrist and the wriggling black veins crawling up to that shoulder and down to the tips of her fingers just reinforces that impression. The mark of her bond with Merrick, right there in front of him. It would be so easy to conjure an operating theater, surgical tools, a fucking butcher knife if that's what it takes...

_**It will not work, idiot mortal.**_

Law tenses at the return of that damn voice, noticing once again that Kyra does not react to it. So the Divine is speaking only to him? Does it not wish to warn the Demon Witch that it has commanded Law to cut off her infected limb, and that until he does so she will remain Merrick's slave?

**_Think you I have not tried, filth? She cannot hear me. The dead are too loud; even you should be able to discern their voices. The little one cannot hear my words over the cries of those the abomination has forced her to slaughter. They are what hid her from me for so long. They should not be gathered around her like this; they should have long since departed for the afterlife. I am... uneasy about this situation._**

So that's where the whispering is coming from. Leave it to his magician to get herself into a mess like this, apparently haunted by all the people Merrick has compelled her to butcher. But why exactly shouldn't he just cut her arm off now, when he knows for a fact that anything he does to her in the dream world will be replicated onto Kyra's body in the physical world?

A sound like someone scoffing echoes through his head.

**_You are not a bonded pair any longer, human. You have access to her now only through my power. Neither she nor you will bear evidence of this when you wake. Removing the abomination's taint now is impossible._**

_Fuck._

"Go away," Kyra suddenly whimpers. Law focuses on his magician as she curls closer to him, hiding her face against his chest like a child. "Please, just go away. Just for tonight. Just until he has to leave. Please go away. Please."

"There's no one here," the pirate tells her, arms tightening around her once again. Kyra tilts her head to look up at him; Law barely controls a flinch at the sight of those haunted eyes.

"They follow me everywhere," she mutters. "Hear them? The whispers? They're always here, Law; can't make them go away, can't help them. Killed them. Killed them all. He makes them all stay. They want to go, can't because he won't let them. Don't know how to help them. Don't know what to do. What do I do?"

Law listens with growing trepidation to his magician's rambling, not pleased with how disjointed she sounds. Her mind is breaking; he might not be a psychologist, but it's as plain as day to him. Kyra has never had the stomach for wanton murder, and being forced to butcher all those people every time Merrick uses her is destroying her.

"Where are you, Kyra?" he asks, squeezing her to his chest and wishing that she could still wake up with bruises from his touch. What proof will Kyra have to hold onto, to show that this dream meeting is real and not simply a figment of her imagination, if she can't take so much as a bruise back to the physical world with her? "Are you on a ship?"

"Island," Law's magician replies faintly, shaky fingers tracing the heart tattooed on his bicep over and over again. "Island somewhere. Alone. No Navy. No people. Just us and her. Can't kill her like he killed mine. Not fair, Law. 'S not fair."

"What's not fair? Who is _she_?"

Kyra's eyes fill with tears. "Mama. Still has his. Mine's dead 'cause of him. 'S not fair."

Law listens as Kyra tells him of Merrick's mother, living alone on some secluded island in a house built specifically for her. He learns of how protective Merrick is of this woman, how Kyra has yet to be in the same room with her, how she knows exactly what Merrick forces Kyra to do and exactly what her son has done in the past but doesn't appear to give a damn. He lets Kyra rant as he tries to figure out how to find her faster, needing to get her back to his side before every last trace of the woman he loves disappears forever. The goddamn Divine knows, but has said nothing except that it would keep an eye on her. Great fucking job it's doing there.

"Does he come here?" Law asks, interrupting Kyra's hoarse ramblings, suddenly thinking of the rather important question he should have voiced immediately upon coming here. "Does he dream with you, through the bond?"

Kyra shakes her head, her skin clammy where it brushes with his. "Only place I'm safe is my dreams now. Back with you and the guys. Back home."

"What about your heart? Have you found it?"

Another shake of the head, her black-veined hand migrating to Law's chest, clutching that the patch of skin over his own heart. "Don't know where the fuck it is. He doesn't mess with it or show me he has it to rub it in my face. Wish he would so I'd know where he keeps it. Can't feel it to find it. Give it back to you for safekeeping. Yours anyway."

Some of Law's iron control slips at that; he finds himself shaking, hugging Kyra so tight she might be fusing to him. Damn her, he hates the way she can make him feel when he doesn't want to. He hates the loss of control he suffers when he so much as thinks about her. He's been little more than a zombie, a wreck, since they have been separated, and even now that he has their dreams back - even after watching her come apart under him - a single fucking comment from this woman is enough to undo him.

"We will retrieve it when I find you," he promises rather darkly, mind listing all of the ways in which he plans to torture Navy Rear Admiral Rafe Merrick before killing him in a suitably brutal fashion. He is unprepared for his magician to suddenly wrench herself out of his arms and throw herself away from him, frantically shaking her head.

"No!" Kyra shouts at him, a fresh wave of tears pouring down her pale face. "Don't come! Leave me! Don't come!"

Clothes appear against their skins once more; the soft snowfall becomes a howling blizzard. The voices that have been whispering all around them are now screaming, their words indecipherable from the noise of the storm. Law tries to grab Kyra through the snow squall that has sprung up between them, snarling as she jerks further away.

"I will not abandon you!" he calls out to her, fighting to make himself heard over the cacophony of screaming. "You are mine, and I will find you! I will not abandon you to Merrick!"

Kyra continues to shake her head, weeping freely, her untamed riot of curls swept up in the harsh winds. "Can't, can't, stay away! Don't want you to come! Don't want to kill you! Stay away! Send someone else! Anyone but you, anyone! Don't come!"

"I don't take orders, Kyra!" Law shouts back, anger burning in his breast at both the command and her rejection of him. "I will find you! I will reclaim you! I will not die by your hand on Merrick's order; I will free you of his hold!"

An unnaturally strong gust of wind knocks Law over backwards, pushing the air from his lungs and leaving him momentarily dazed. When his head clears, he finds himself sprawled on the ground with Kyra straddling him, her hands fisted in his newly rematerialized jacket and her face hovering so close to his that their lips brush when she speaks. Her tears fall into his own eyes before trailing down his temples into his hair.

"Love you," Law's magician whispers, clearly audible over the blizzard raging all around them. "Love you, Trafalgar Law. Don't want to kill you. Don't want to be alive if you're dead because of me. Can't kill you if you stay away. So stay away. For me, for us, for the crew; I don't care who. Just stay away. Don't come for me. Don't make me your murderer.

"Love you."

And then she is gone, and Law is left alone in a field of gently falling snow, his cold heart aching and Kyra's tears still wet upon his cheeks.

* * *

><p>AN: On the off chance there is still anybody out there reading this, thank you. Sorry for the year-long wait; life hasn't been pulling any of it's punches lately. Please review, as always, even if it's just so you can gripe about the wait.


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